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University  of  California. 

Received      Jjlyt-^i-xJ^  '  ^^9/- 

Ar cession  No.(^{^^ / ^  .        Class  No.  *^^'. 


W-|^-§ABCo 


■Fo/fTy  Ce^/rS- 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    BRITISH    PRESS. 


It  is  said  to  be  well  to  *'  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us."  Reviews  and  other 
press  notices  commonly  result  in  showing  that  others  see  you  in  a  bewilderment 
of  different  lights  and  from  many  points  of  view.  Here  are  parts  of  several 
critical  articles  which  reached  the  author  of  Cypress  Beach  very  soon  after  the 
first  publication  of  this  book  in  London.  One,  the  best  in  every  way,  is  given  at 
full  length.  The  reader  will  find  it  easy  to  skip  the  double  columns  if  they  weary 
him. 


There  is  undoubtedly  very  consider 
able  power  in  Cypress  Beach — ill-regu- 
lated power,  perhaps,  but  still  it  is 
unmistakably  there.  It  is  a  story  of 
life  (-n  one  of  the  American  Southern 
border  States,  and  the  writer  seems  to 
have  equal  skill  over  character  as  in 
description  of  scenery.  He  hns  a  strong 
sense  of  both  humor  and  pathos,  and, 
although  there  is  uncvenness  of  execu- 
tion, we  can  pardon  this  where  there  is 
so  much  promise  in  other  respects. — 
Academy,  London. 

It  is  interesting  enough  in  its  mate- 
rials to  have  occupied  two  ordinary 
volumes  of  fiction. — Atheneum,  Lon- 
don. 

The  scene,  personoges,  and,  it  may 
also  be  said,  the  style  of  Mr.  Babcock's 
siory.  Cypress  Beach  are  entirely  Ameri- 
can, and  ihey  belcng  to  a  type  of  Trans- 
atlantic fiction  wlich  will  be  unfamiliar 
to  most  English  readers.  Mr.  Babcock 
is  not  wanting  in  boldness  of  concep- 
tion, and  his  method  of  treatment  is 
correspondingly     broad     and     sketchy. 

*  -^  *  The  action  of  the  story  is  so 
hurried  and  crowded  that  the  reader 
finds  difficulty  in  keeping  pace  with  it. 

*  *  *  There  are  cleverness  and 
vigor  in  it. — SCOTSMAN,  EDINBURGH. 

It  is  impossible  to  mistake  Cypress 
Beach  for  anything  else  than  American 
in  origin,  and,  indeed,  our  insular 
views  (<f  propriety  and  Its  convenances 
rebel  against    any    suggestion    that    an 

I 


English  young  lady  of  respectable 
position  could  find  herself  so  unfortu- 
nately situated  as  did  the  very  charming 
and  independent  damsel  of  this  story. 
Mr.  Roger  Armstrong  and  the  young 
gallant.  Cousin  Prince,  are  admirable 
portraits  of  Southern  gentlemen,  full  of 
noble  impulse,  impetuous,  but  the  souls 
of  honor  and  generosity.  Utterly  dis- 
believing as  we  do  in  the  existence  of 
any  such  noxious  power  of  one  individ- 
ual over  another  as  is  here  represented, 
we  merely  state  the  plot  of  this  wild 
romance  without  according  it  the  slight- 
est approval.  Vamper  almosts  succeeds 
in  a  vile  attempt  to  carry  Jessica  away 
with  him.  This  improbable  story 
touches  upon  topics  innumerable,  glanc- 
ing lightly  over  the  question  of  freed 
negroes  in  their  social  and  political  re- 
lation to  the  United  States,  the  labor 
question,  and  others.  This  story  strikes 
us  as  being  of  doubtful  utility,  even  if 
harmless. — Literary  World,  Lon- 
don. 

Most  novel-readers  exclaim  with 
Blanche  Amory,  "  II  me  faut  des  emo- 
tions !"  And  however  reprehenbible 
the  craving  may  have  been  in  that 
heartless  young  lady — whose  emotions 
were  supposed  to  be  caused  by  realities, 
and  were,  nevertheless,  mere  shams 
that  flare-up  vehemently  for  an  instant, 
and  then  subside  to  give  place  to  the 
next — yet  it  is  evidently  a  very  different 
matter  in  regard  to  emotions  which  can 
only  be  unreal  inasmuch  as  they  are 
dependent  solely  upon  the  fuss,  sound, 


CYPRESS    BEACH— OPINIONS   OF   THE   BRITISH   PRESS. 


and  fury  of  a  world  whose  denizens 
and  events  are  known  to  be  creations 
of  fancy.  It  is,  therefore,  with  no 
thought  of  censure  that  we  attribute 
Miss  Amory's  sentiment  to  our  readers, 
and  give  them  the  comfortable  assur- 
ance that  the  author  of  the  book  now 
to  be  considei-ed  is  not  one  of  those 
who  treat  the  aforesaid  innocent  desire 
as  a  thing  to  be  ignored  and  snubbed  if 
possible.  Cypress  Beach  occupies  only 
two  extremely  thin  volumes  of  about 
200  pages  each;  but  there  is  in  that 
smaJl  space  sufficient  material  to  have 
been  expanded  easily  into  much  larger 
proportions.  It  is  a  tale  of  the  labor 
revolt  in  America  in  1877,  and,  if  a  first 
performance,  is  a  book  to  raise  high 
expectation  as  to  the  rank  which  its 
writer  will  hereafter  take  amongst  ifov- 
elists.  That  it  should  be  sketchy  is  an 
almost  inevitable  consequence  of  the 
small  compass  which  limits  its  full  de- 
velopment. But  though  the  picture 
may  not  be  a  complete  one,  yet  the 
strokes  that  outline  it  are  broad  and 
vigorous;  though  the  figuics  make  but 
a  brief  stay  on  the  stage,  yet  their  ap- 
pearance produces  a  VwKh  impression 
on  the  spectators;  and  Mr.  Babcock 
shows  himself  capable  both  of  forcible 
conceptions  and  also  of  caustic  humor. 
The  two  most  striking  characters  may, 
not  inaptly,  be  compared  to  St.  George 
and  the  Dragon, — for  one  of  them  is  a 
sort  of  hideous  and  foul  moral  reptile, 
leaving  a  poisonous  trail  on  whatever  it 
comes  in  contact  with  ;  and  the  other  is 
a  valiant  and  chivalrous  gentleman,  who 
fights  the  monster  in  order  to  deliver  a 
fair  lady  from  its  loathsome  clutches. 
Vamper,  as  the  human  dragon  is  called 
(^  name  whose  similarity  to  vampire 
seems  to  indicate  the  propensities  of  its 
bearer),  is  a  truly  Mephistophelian,  and 
in  some  ways  unique  specimen  of  a  vil- 
lain. An  agitator  by  profession,  his  life 
is  a  perpetual  stirring-up  of  strife  and 
flitting  from  place  to  place  to  organize 
and  make  profit  out  of  turbulence  and 
discontent,  wherever  they  may  be  found. 
Thus  at  one  time  he  is  at  Washington 
practising  extortions  amongst  the  Con- 
gressmen, and  meeting  any  attempt  at 
resistance  with  the  regretful  inquiry, 
*^Must  I  then  play  Lucifer  among  your 


constituents?"  followed  by  a  meditative 
remark  of,  "I  like  to  play  Lucifer." 
And  at  another  time  he  is  in  the  country 
inciting  the  free  negroes  to  make  war 
upon  capital,  though,  as  he  says  with 
cynical  frankness,  "What  in  Tophet  do 
I  care  for  these  dogs  of  laborers?  / 
want  an  office.""  Delighting  in  evil  for 
its  own  sake,  he  is  himself  a  very  in- 
carnation of  it;  yet  in  him.  the  grotesque 
element  is  so  cunningly  blended  with 
what  is  repulsive,  that  the  reader  is 
amused  at  his  quaint  fantasticality  even 
whilst  shuddering  at  his  wickedness, 
and  it  almost  seems  as  if  he  must  have 
regarded  existence  from  first  to  last  as  a 
sort  of  infernal  practical  joke.  Not 
only  is  he  endowed  with  abundance  of 
brains  and  energy,  but  also  with  great 
mesmeric  power,  by  means  of  which  he 
enthralls  the  heroine.  Hence  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  St.  George,  a  gallant  knight 
to  break  the  spell;  and  Hawksley,  who 
plays  that  part,  and  is  a  model  of  chival- 
rous honor,  valor  and  loyalty,  seems 
rather  to  belong  to  some  mediaeval  ro- 
mance than  to  a  nineteenth-century 
novel.  Proud,  loving,  true  to  the  back- 
bone, unyielding,  aristocratic,  clinging 
to  old  beliefs  and  ways,  hating  the  ad- 
vocates of  anti-slavery  with  a  holy  and 
scornful  hatred,  he  is  "  a  man  not  de- 
void of  sympathies  truly,  but  with  a 
deal  of  iron  in  his  convictions  and  his 
methods  of  enforcing  them,  an  exalted 
theory  of  what  was  due  to  himself,  and 
hardly  more  than  an  incidental  estimate 
of  the  value  of  human  life."  His  sole 
idea  of  argument  is  the  revolver,  to 
which  he  has  recourse  on  all  occasions 
without  the  faintest  distrust  of  its  uni- 
versal efficacy  and  applicability.  And 
this  grim  trait,  joined  to  the  firm  and 
undoubting  faith  with  which  he  believes 
in  the  absolute  righteousness  of  all  his 
opinions,  makes  one  fancy  him  to  have 
been  cast  in  something  the  same  mould 
as  that  Walton,  nephew  of  Cromwell's, 
who  fell  at  Marston  Moor,  and  whose 
one  regret  in  dying  was  "  that  God  had 
not  suffered  him  to  be  any  more  the  exe- 
cutioner of  his  enemies."  Altogether, 
Hawksley 's  character  is  that  of  a  stern, 
but  noble,  high-principled,  and  knightly 
gentleman,  in  whom  is  shown  how  nar- 
row-mindedness and  prejudice  are  beau- 


CYPRESS    BEACH-OPINIONS  OF  THE   BRITISH   PRESS. 


Ill 


tiful  when  they  spring  from  and  are 
inseparably  connected  with  unselfish 
loyalty,  courage,  love  of  honor,  and 
fidelity  to  principle. 

A  complete  contrast  to  this  unbend- 
ing and  bigotedly  faithful  nature,  to 
wh5m  its  convictions  are  far  dearer 
than  life,  is  presented  by  that  of  the 
heroine's  other  suitor.  He  is  a  type  of 
modern,  easy-going  nonchalance,  lazy, 
kindly,  sceplical,  incapable  of  earnest 
purpose,  taking  life  lightly  and  jest- 
ingly, and  never  approaching  nearer  to 
any  kind  of  definite  belief  than  an  idea 
that  "some  old  and  settled  things  really 
seemed  as  though  they  might  be  left 
without  periodical  investigation  and  re- 
adjustment." The  damsel  for  whose 
good  graces  these  two  candidates  con- 
tend is,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  rather 
disappointing  little  personage, — co- 
quettish, volatile,  helpless,  weakly  im- 
pressionable, and  quite  unworthy  of, 
and  incapable  of  rightly  appreciating, 
the  unchanging  devotion  of  Hawksley. 
She  is  always  ruled  by  the  caprice  and 
impulse  of  the  moment ;  has  not  the 
strength  of  mind  to  try  and  break  her 
own  fetters  and  raise  a  finger  to  defend 
herself  from  the  deadly  peril  which, 
nevertheless,  she  sees  and  dreads;  is 
hardly  grateful  to    her  champion    and 


deliverer ;  is  generally  childish  and 
silly;  and  altogether  gives  an  unsatis- 
factory feeling  that  she  in  no  way  de- 
served the  homage  she  received  or  the 
final  happiness  assigned  to  her.  Early 
in  the  story,  an  ill-omened  ring  is  in- 
troduced and  a  bundle  of  hidden  old 
papers  discovered,  with  as  much  pomp 
and  circumstance  as  though  they  were 
destined  to  play  a  prominent  part  in 
subsequ  nt  events  and  give  a  flavor  of 
supernaturalism.  Nothing  particular 
comes  of  them  after  all,  however,  so 
that  one  is  inclined  to  imagine  the 
author  may  have  changed  his  original 
intention  in  the  middle  of  his  work, 
without  heeding  the  weakening  of 
structure  which  would  naturally  result 
from  such  alterations.  But,  be  that  as 
it  may,  there  is  art  and  power  enough 
in  Cypress  Beach  to  make  it  interesting 
and  attractive  independently  of  the 
plot.  And  though  it  is  rarely  that  a 
reviewe*  complams  of  a  book  for  too 
great  brevity,  we  close  this  one  with 
a  sincere  regret  that  Mr.  Babcock 
should  not  have  allowed  himself  room 
to  give  fuller  expression  and  develop- 
ment to  the  conceptions  that  occupied 
his  brain  when  he  wrote. — Spectator, 
London. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/cypressbeachOObabcrich 


FIRST    AMERICAN    EDITION. 


Pypress^IBeagh 


BY 


WM.    H.    BABCOCIC 


"A  PLACE   FOR    IDLE   EYES  AND    EARS, 
A    COBWEBBED    NOOK    OF    DREAMS." 

'And    A   WIDE    WORLD    OF    WILD    REALITY." 

'Well  may  sleep  present  us  fictions. 
Since  our  waking  moments  teem 
With  such  fanciful  convictions 

As   makes   life   itself   a    DREAM.' 


WASHINGTON,  D.  C. : 

WM.   H.   BABCOCK, 
1S90. 


(^(^Jl? 


COPYRIGHTED 

By  Wm.    H.    Babcock, 

1884. 


R.    Beresford, 

PRINTER, 
Washington,  D.  C. 


Vll 


DEDICATION. 


To  the  author  of  ^' Elsie  Vei^ney  and  kindred  works,  wherein 
fancy,  lightening  or  darkening  but  always  kindly  human,  plays 
very  near  the  depths  of  mystery  and  terror ;  the  one  living 
American  zvritcr  in  whom  the  fascination  of  the  great  shadows 
never  has  lessened  the  love  of  sunshine,  nor  the  zuilling?iess,  and. 
more  than  willingness,  to  shed  it  abroad.  As  one  ivho  lias  thriv.  n 
luider  it  and  found  enjoyment  and  profit  in  all  his  snoods,  I  feel 
like  quothig,  though  perhaps  with  an  unwarrantable  wrench  of 
the  meaning,  ''Strange  is  the  gift  that  I  owe  to  you!' 


UiriVIRSITT 


PREFACE. 


Now  a  preface  is  a  thing  of  many  uses.  It  may  serve  to 
convey  a  man's  ideas  of  most  problems  in  the  universe ;  but 
I  prefer  to  reserve  the  main  body  of  my  text  for  that,  and  even 
then  there  is  generally  something  left  over.  It  may  be  in  itself 
a  delicate  and  original  piece  of  art  in  the  humorous  vein  ; — if 
one  were  only  a  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  to  make  it  so.  Or  it  may 
turn  benevolent  and  save  the  "  chorus  of  indolent  reviewers" 
all  trouble  of  looking  farther. 

It  certainly  did  seem  to  me  when  once  upon  a  time  I  set 
before  the  public  an  unpretending  structure  of  verses,  th^t  in 
some  way  I  had  made  the  vestibule  too  seductive.  Most  of 
my  newspaper  friends  who  did  not  devote  their  energy  to 
contradicting  each  other  were  well  content  to  lie  down  in  it, 
after  the  fashion  of  a  man  coming  home  very  late  indeed  to  a 
doubtful  welcome.  Any  foot-rug  of  a  quotation  from  my 
preliminary  prose  would  serve  them  for  a  covering.  But  this 
was  long  ago,  and  there  were  things  in  that  poetry  which  may 
have  merited  worse  treatment. 

However  that  may  be,  I  wish  to  have  the  present  story 
read,  a  little  of  it  at  any  rate — and  it  is  not  very  long — even 
by  the  running  journalist.  It  probably  will  not  hurt  him  ; 
for  I  know  well  the  capabilities  of  that  tribe,  having  sinned 
and  suffered  in  my  time,  as  one  of  them,  although  not  for  long. 
And  "an  enduring  mind  have  the,  destinies  appointed  to  the 
children  of  men." 

For  this  present  I  have  in  view  nothing  worse  than  a  brief 
explanatory  chat  with  my  hypothetical  readers  that  are  to  be. 
My  American  readers,  for  the  book,  first  published  in  England 


PREFACE. 


to  secure  that  copyright,  now  comes  newly  before  them.  Per- 
haps there  may  be  a  dozen  copies  in  Hbraries  and  private 
hands  in  this  country;  and  the  Government,  more  or  less 
wisely,  has  absorbed  and  hidden  a  larger  batch  beyond  all 
finding  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  New  York  Circumlocution 
Office.  But  this  is  not  publication.  It  is  rather  keeping  the 
book  a  profound  and  inscrutable  secret.  And  I  may  safely 
assume  that  you,  my  dear  sir,  madam  or  miss,  have  never  set 
eyes  on  it. 

Briefly,  then,  do  not  make  the  mistake  of  thinking  that  any 
of  my  characters  mean  you.  Something  like  a  year  ago  this 
misadventure  befel.  I  had  concocted  a  very  harmless  "  inter- 
ference" yarn,  which  appeared  in  Lippincott's  magazine  for 
August,  1889,  under  the  title  "An  Invention  of  the  Enemy." 
It  was  meant  to  be  satirical,  but  not  unkindly ;  didactic  only 
in  its  undertone  and  intimations ;  truthful,  and  therefore  with 
plenty  of  laugh  in  it.  One  of  the  personages  did  not  quite 
escape  the  merry  shadow  which  dogs  all  of  us,  understood 
rightly.  "  What  fools  we  mortals  be."  He  was  upright, 
honorable,  aspiring,  diligent  in  his  calling,  exceptional  in  the 
matter  of  conscience,  a  reputable  man,  a  good  man,  a  gentle- 
man— only  instructively  and  deprecatedly  official.  His  value 
lay  in  that  last  foible,  more  than  he  could  know.  In  spite  of 
it  he  was  a  friend  of  mine,  this  Eben  Mumm.  As  novelists 
are  given  to  say,  I  came  to  feel  rather  better  acquainted  with 
him  than  if  he  had  ever  precisely  existed  in  the  flesh.  I  feel 
so  still. 

Now  it  was  very  interesting  to  see  how  many  other  gentle- 
men in  office  had  not  the  least  suspicion  in  the  world  that 
they  could  be  meant ;  and  felt  uneasily  compelled  to  assure 
me  so.  Without  exception  they  were  men  whom  I  esteem, 
though  probably  not  more  perfect  than  the  rest  of  their  gen- 
eration. How  they  and  their  friends  worked  out  the  identity 
was  now  and  again  a  matter  of  puzzle  to  me;  but  generally  a 
little  reflection  would  throw  some  light  on  the  process  and  the 
clew. 


PREFACE.  XI 

Now,  therefore,  I  enter  my  caveal  in  advance.  Let  no  man 
find  his  double  in  Cypress  Beach,  for  better  or  worse,  for  good 
or  ill.  The  people  who  stood  for  my  portraits  never  were 
born.  They  died  long  ago.  And  they  have  gone — to  Europe. 
It  is  the  business  of  a  romancer  to  romance.  As  to  the  scenes, 
you  might  find  some  of  them  ;  but  others  are  hardly  extant 
out  of  dreamland.  In  particular  I  do  not  advise  any  explorer 
to  undertake  the  search  after  the  haunted  cove,  or  the  ancient 
village  of  Nodaway.  And  now  I  will  end  this  letter  and 
leave  the  tale  to  you. 


Rock  Haven,  July  ist,  i8ga. 


Wm.  H.  Babcock. 


UiriVBRSITT, 


CONTENTS. 


Xlll 


CHAPTER. 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 
XXIV. 


ACCOMAC, I 

"  MONARCH    OF    ALL    I    SURVEY,"      ...  lO 

"REVISITING    THE    GLIMPSES,"                 ,            .            .  1 7 

"  HARMONY    NOT    UNDERSTOOD,"       ...  24 

"  LET    LOOSE    FOR    A    SEASON,"                 ...  3O 

"  THERE   WORKETH    A    SPELL,"          ...  43 

"  RIDE,    BOLDLY    RIDE,"       .....  49  ■ 

"all   the    blessedness    of    SLEEP,"        .             .  58  " 

"good  at  need,"    ......  60 

"  st.  michael  and  the  dragon,"       .         .  64 

"  who  cares  for  nothing  alone  is  free,"  73 

"  i  can  call  spirits,"        ....  79 

"one     TOUCH    TO     HER     HAND    AND    ONE    WORD 

IN    HER    EAR,"          .....  83 

"WHERE    ARE    YOU    GOING,  MY    PRETTY    MAID?"  87 

"  SWEET    DAY — SO    CALM,  SO    BRIGHT,"           ;             .  92 

"  OVER   THE    MOUNTAINS    OF    THE    MOON,"         .  IO3 

"and    THEN    HE    FALLS,"                              .             .             .  I06 

"a    sinner's    PARTING    SCENE."         .             .             .  II5 

"can    I    CLASP    IT    REEKIN(;    RED?"     .             .             .  1 23 

"WHERE    LATE    THE    SWEET    BIRDS    SANG,"      .  I3I 

"when   PAIN   AND   ANGUISH    WRING  THE  BROW,"  I  38 

"THIS    MAD    WORLD — GIGMANITY,"            .             .  I48 

"to    DEATH    UTTERLY," 1 54 

"  MEN    SCARCELY    KNOW    HOW    BEAUTIFUL     FIRE 

IS," 160 

"after  life's  fitful  fever,"    ...  167 

"  rest      from      all      bitter      THOUGHTS      AND 

THINGS," 173 


CYPRESS    BEACH 


CHAPTER  I. 

ACCOMAC. 


In  a  secluded,  rarely-visited,  slowly-changing  region,  where 
the  outposts  of  a  semi-tropical  vegetation  mingle  (as  dream- 
forms  mingle)  with  old  English  survivals  in  architecture  and 
human  life,  a  narrow,  cypress-shaded  river  winds  its  bronze 
waters  down  to  the  great  bay.  In  all  our  land  there  is  nothing 
more  quaint  and  winning,  more  remote  and  other-worldly. 
Here  again  and  again  has  a  romantic  past  made  its  unavailing 
stand  for  royal  or  feudal  shadows,  so  that  the  very  earth  and 
air  are  sown  with  discrowned  hopes  and  foredoomed  endeav- 
ors. 

Hither  (now  as  much  a  shadow  as  any)  drifted,  in  the  latter 
days  of  the  merry  though  baleful  King  Charles,  one  who  is 
said  to  have  been  in  a  certain  sense  very  near  the  throne. 
Perhaps  the  exceeding,  almost  rumor-proof,  quiet  of  her  new 
home  may  have  had  its  balm  for  nerves  outworn  by  the  glitter 
and  stress  of  court  life,  in  a  time  when  tragedy  and  deadly  sin 
went  masked  as  mirth  and  jeweled  bodices  hid  secrets  not 
lightly  to  be  told. 

Yet  possibly  even  in  this  colonial  nook  she  did  not  alto- 
gether escape  the  sinister  thrill  of  far-away  whispers,  such  as 
have  left  some  traces  in  tradition  even  to  our  day.  vShe  is 
always  alone,  whether  shunned  or  shunning,  in  the  glimpses 
which  this  medium  gives  us ;  now  leaning  with  stately  grace 
2  1 


2  CYPRESS  BEACH 

beside  her  library  window  while  the  sunshine  wakes  strange 
fire  in  her  jeweled  fingers ;  now  bowing  wistfully  over  the 
spotless  white  rosebuds  of  her  terraced  garden  ;  now  pacing 
feverishly  the  narrow  strip  of  sand  at  the  head  of  the  cypress- 
bordered  cove  below.  It  is  in  this  latter  mood  that  supersti- 
tion still  loves  to  picture  her  in  the  hush  of  starlit  nights — the 
black  cypress  shadows  before  and  behind,  the  curved  white 
beach  between,  and  thereon  the  phantom  of  a  jeweled  lady  pac- 
ing by  the  dull-gleaming  water — pacing  under  dread  urgence, 
with  bowed  head  and  hands  clasped  together !  And  see,  on 
one  of  the  bloodless  fingers,  what  is  it  that  glows  and  changes, 
instinct  with  evil  life  ? 

But  we  need  not  dwell  at  present  on  The  Lady  of  the  Ring 
or  the  vagaries  of  frightened  negroes  and  beclouded  loiterers. 
Doubtless  she  made  a  quiet  ending,  like  many  another  worn- 
out  soul,  and  has  been  glad  enough  to  remain  at  rest  ever 
since,  whatever  needless  tasks  may  have  been  assigned  her  by 
a  popular  ideal  of  propriety  in  spectral  things,  involuntarily 
laying  emphasis  on  that  one  of  her  belongings  which  best 
typifies  her  perilous  love  of  the  world's  brilliancy. 

She  left  by  will  the  ownership  of  Cypress  Beach,  with  its 
mansion  of  black-glazed  English  brick  and  a  thousand  or  more 
poorly  cultivated,  but  fairly  reliable,  acres  to  a  relation  (some 
said  a  son  by  an  early  marriage)  who  bore  the  old  Scotch 
moss-trooper  name  of  Armstrong.  This  vigorous  stock,  thus 
transplanted  to  new  soil,  had  thriven  mightily  therein  and 
never  lost  its  hold.  The  estate  had  alternately  expanded  and 
shrunken  many  times  in  the  course  of  political  and  financial 
changes;  but  there  had  always  been  an  Armstrong  at  Cypress 
Beach,  and  he  had  always  been  a  power  in  his  own  neighbor- 
hood at  least.  The  county  was  pretty  well  sprinkled  v;ith  col- 
lateral younger  scions,  which  from  time  to  time  had  dropped 
to  earth  and  rooted  themselves  after  the  manner  of  the  ban- 
yan fig-tree.  They  all  owned  slaves,  while  slaves  were  to  be 
had,  and  land,  unless  ill-fortune  forbade  them  to  own  any- 
thin  s;. 


ACCOMAC.  ■  3 

One  of  these  servants,  a  gift  from  the  main  family  stem  at 
Cypress  Beach,  was  a  bright  mulatto  woman,  who  became 
known  as  Mammy  Charlotte  with  advancing  years.  In  her 
youth  Charlotte  had  been  considered  handsome,  an  endow- 
ment, whencesocver  derived,  which  certainly  had  not  been 
transmitted  to  the  comical  piccaninny  who  was  her  only  off- 
spring. For  a  time  this  little  John  was  the  plaything  of  both 
old  and  young  at  Cypress  Beach,  and  the  mother  received  all 
kindly  attention.  Then  a  certain  Miss  Jessica,  niece  to  Roger 
Armstrong,  the  head  of  the  family,  came  into  life  at  a  distant 
farm  ;  and  her  baby  needs  called  for  the  separation  of  mother 
and  child.  Accordingly,  with  no  intention  of  cruelty,  or 
diminution  of  good-will,  but  simply  as  a  matter  of  supposed 
necessity,  Charlotte  was  taken  from  her  own  infant  and  sent 
to  care  for  a  child  whom  she  had  never  seen. 

Most  slaves  would  not  have  found  a  tragedy  in  this,  and 
probably  Charlotte  did  not;  although,  as  we  shall  see,  the 
violation  of  nature's  order  had  consequences  in  store  for  all 
concerned.  Yet,  as  she  bent  dutifully  over  her  new  charge 
in  the  slow  hours  of  the  night,  how  can  one  doubt  that  the 
vision  may  sometimes  have  risen  before  even  her  of  another 
child  whom  she  might  seldom  see  again,  and  whose  quaint 
ways  would  go  on  amusing  and  delighting  all  but  her? 

But  Charlotte's  private  griefs,  if  there  were  such,  found  no 
outward  expression  and  gave  rise  to  no  ill-will.  Before  long 
not  even  the  lady  mother  was  fonder  or  prouder  of  little  Jes- 
sica, and  this  love  of  the  slave  nurse  extended  in  a  less  degree 
to  the  entire  household.  Therefore,  v«hen  it  was  determined 
that  her  stay  in  it  should  be  permanent,  she  made  no  strenu- 
ous objection ;  and  when  misfortune  drove  her  new  master  to 
accept  a  minor  official  position  at  Washington,  she  went  with 
him  very  willingly  and  rejoiced  in  the  modest  prosperity 
which  followed.  Emancipation  came,  but  she  remained  ;  and 
after  Jessica's  parents  had  been  successively  removed  by 
death  the  old  nurse  was  still  at  hand  to  lean  on  and  to  trust. 
Stronger  ties  than  any  which  could  be  woven  or  broken  by 


72ES1TY* 


4  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

human  law  were  sure  to  bind  Mammy  Charlotte  until  her  last 
day  on  earth. 

Meanwhile  her  son  John,  after  having  been  indulged,  was 
repressed,  when  repression  became  necessary,  with  more  harsh- 
ness than  wisdom,  so  that  freedom  found  him  ripe  for  evil. 
All  the  Caliban  traits  born  with  him,  and  fostered  by  his  ex- 
perience of  caprice,  showed  themselves  in  a  series  of  crimes, 
evincing  some  shrewdness  and  more  brutality.  At  last,  after 
undergoing  divers  punishments  at  the  hands  of  the  law,  he  had 
disappeared  altogether. 

Jessica  was  not  a  penniless  orphan.  Her  father  had  recov- 
ered something  from  the  wreck  of  his  rural  property,  and, 
having  but  one  child  and  no  very  expensive  habits,  had  been 
able  to  put  by  more  or  less  money  from  his  salary  every  year. 
This  process  had  continued  a  surprisingly  long  time  consider- 
ing the  political  bias  of  the  Armstrongs  of  Accomac.  But  he 
had  all  the  joviality  of  that  well-fed  race  without  much  of  their 
aggressiveness  ;  and  no  one  in  power  cared  to  molest  a  man 
who  made  himself  so  pleasant.  So  Death  was  the  first  auto- 
crat who  took  the  matter  up  with  serious  hostile  intent,  and 
even  he  considerately  waited  until  Jessica  was  decently  pro- 
vided for. 

But  it  seemed  likely  to  be  a  rather  meagre  support ;  so, 
and  for  other  reasons,  Jessica  accepted  after  a  time  an  in- 
vitation from  her  widowed  uncle  Roger  to  preside  over 
Cypress  Beach.  Of  course  Mammy  Charlotte  went  with 
her ;  as  did  also  a  young  gentleman  of  the  capital  named 
Robert  Chauncey.  Jessica  never  traveled  far  without  a 
male  escort,  partly  because  it  seemed  to  her  rather  woman's- 
rightish  and  indecorous.  She  was  apt,  moreover,  to  doubt 
whether  such  independence  were  a  matter  of  choice  with 
those  who  adopted  it;  and  to  extend  her  amiably  depre- 
ciating pity  to  women  who  were  less  favored  than  herself 
by  the  operation  of  the  great  law  of  demand  and  supply. 
There  was  always  a  competition  among  men  for  her  com- 
pany even  on  minor  occasions. 


ACCOMAC.  5 

This  would  not  have  seemed  strange  to  any  man  who 
looked  on  Miss  Jessica  in  her  twentieth  year.  She  owned 
a  border-state  face,  a  compromise  face,  yet  a  very  sweet  one. 
Its  expression  was  equally  removed  from  the  luxurious  fire- 
veiling  languor  of  the  far  South,  and  the  nervous  energy  and 
keenness  of  the  North  ;  but  with  hints  of  both,  and  now  and 
then  a  decided  lapse  toward  either.  Her  form  and  features 
were  just  full  enough  not  to  be  in  the  least  out  of  symmetry; 
her  complexion  had  a  soft,  human  warmth  which  rarely  be- 
came quite  rosy;  and  her  motions  were  exceedingly  light 
and  graceful.  In  her  manner  there  were  often  little  turns 
and  ways  which  some  women  called  "affected,"  though 
with  no  very  good  reason.  Her  delicacy  of  taste  was  only 
one  form  of  an  extreme  susceptibility,  that  showed  itself  in 
some  more  fantastic  if  not  menacing  ways.  For  example, 
she  sometimes  thought  she  heard  her  name  breathed  in 
low  tones  when  no  one  was  near ;  and  there  were  certain 
experiences  which  might  pass  for  optical  illusions,  though 
she  did  not  consider  them  such.  One  or  two  hypnotic  ex- 
periments, into  which  unwise  companions  had  led  her,  were 
hurriedly  given  up  in  sheer  indefinable  dread  of  what  might 
follow\  She  rarely  spoke  of  such  experiences ;  having  no 
desire  for  the  rather  unlad}'like  reputation  of  a  seer. 

It  is  beyond  doubt  that  Jessica  took  a  kitten-like  pleasure 
in  stimulating  the  rivalry  of  her  suitors  and  making  life  in- 
teresting to  them  by  tantalizing  bits  of  caprice ;  although 
any  suggestion  of  a  serious  effort  to  attract  or  retain  an 
admirer  would  have  made  her  open  her  eyes  in  disgusted 
astonishment.  In  the  present  instance  she  had  character- 
istically set  aside  the  man  whom  she  secretly  preferred,  and 
accepted  as  escort  one  who  was  only  her  second  choice. 
Miss  Jessica  could  make  second  choices  with  surprising 
celerity  in  small  matters  as  well  as  great.  Her  present 
selection  was  not  a  bad  one. 

There  was  a  dash  of  genius  about  Robert  Chauncey — that 
is,  passive  genius,  including  an  exquisite  appreciation  of  the 


6  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

less  obvious  beauties  of  literature  and  art,  but  inspiring  no 
vigorous  effort.  He  did  just  enough  in  several  lines  to  pro- 
voke gratifying  expostulations  for  not  doing  more.  Earnest- 
ness of  any  sort  seemed  to  appal  him.  Nevertheless  he 
nourished  a  certain  half-sentimental  sympathy  with  those 
classes  which  (in  that  spring  and  early  summer  of  1877) 
filled  the  background  of  every  social  picture  with  the  shad- 
ows of  coming  revolt.  This  had  its  root  partly  in  a  kindly 
fellow-feeling  for  human  suffering;  but  partly,  also,  in  his 
own  bitter  sense  of  the  unequal  distribution  of  wealth. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  very  hard  to  him  that  the  luxuries 
of  life  were  poured  without  stint  on  many  who  could  not 
adequately  enjoy  them,  while  he  had  only  the  meagre  indul- 
gencies  of  a  department  clerk.  He  could  not  help  feeling  a 
longing  for  some  communistic  short-cut  to  (a  rather  conven- 
tional) Utopia ;  something  that  would  not  call  for  the  hope- 
less virtues  of  energy,  self-denial,  and  frugality.  His  chief 
annoyance  was  a  lurking  dissatisfaction  with  himself  (perhaps 
as  yet  the  only  hopeful  indication  about  him),  which  gave  rise 
to  hazy  fancies  of  proving  by  some  sort  of  sudden  pyrotech- 
nics his  right  to  stand  forth  from  the  crowd.  But  neither 
department  work  nor  the  routine  of  fashionable  society  offers 
much  scope  for  exhibitions  of  that  sort,  and  he  saw  no  pres- 
ent prospect  of  astonishing  anybody. 

He  was  fond  of  making  love  of  a  kind  pretty  well  under- 
stood by  all  parties  as  predestined  to  end  in  nothing.  Most 
young  ladies  of  his  set  were  willing  to  engage  in  this  game, 
with  a  certain  sense  of  being  complimented  thereby.  It  was 
perhaps  because  Jessica  Armstrong  never  showed  any  reliable 
indications  of  such  willingness  that  he  had  at  last  concluded 
to  consider  his  affections  as  seriously  engaged,  and  to  conduct 
himself  accordingly.  At  one  time  he  had  drawn  not  a  little 
hope  from  the  kindly  way  in  which  she  used  her  eyes,  and 
the  slightly  drooping  interest  of  her  attitude :  but  he  gener- 
ally found  his  sentimental  advances  repelled  by  a  wide-awake, 
mocking   good    humor   and    a   truly   paralyzing   politeness. 


ACCOMAC.  y 

Jessica  had  not  passed  through  two  or  three  Washingtofi 
seasons  and  as  many  episodical  engagements  for  nothing. 

Robert  Chauncey's  campaign  against  her  heart  had  now 
been  prosecuted  for  a  long  time. 

He,  as  well  as  all  other  parties  concerned,  felt  that  matters 
were  nearing  a  climax,  though  the  result  was  past  foreseeing. 
His  selection  as  an  escort  was  hopeful ;  but,  as  if  measurably 
to  counterbalance  it,  \\^  knew  that  she  had  invited  to  Cypress 
Beach  his  rival  who  had  been  left  behind,  and  that  the 
latter  had  promptly  accepted  the  invitation,  even  signifying 
his  intention  to  avail  himself  of  it  within  two  or  three  days. 
This  rival  was  a  Virginian  of  considerable  attainments  and 
broken  fortunes,  descended  on  the  mother's  side  from  a 
noble  exiled  family  of  Rochelle  through  a  line  of  unyielding 
South  Carolina  Huguenots,  pro-slavery  Puritans  who  hated 
the  anti-slavery  Puritans  of  the  North  with  a  holy  and  a 
scornful  hatred — a  man  not  devoid  of  sympathies  truly,  but 
with  a  deal  of  iron  in  his  convictions  and  his  methods  of 
enforcing  them,  an  exalted  theory  of  what  was  due  to  him- 
self, and  hardly  more  than  an  incidental  estimate  of  the  value 
of  human  life.  Chauncey  was  astonished  that  Captain 
Hawksley  should  have  been  so  complaisant  in  this  instance, 
after  what  he  must  have  regarded  as  a  slight  put  on  him. 
It  could  only  be  explained  by  the  eagerness  of  immediate 
and  very  serious  intentions. 

The  trip  was  a  delightful  one,  both  to  Jessica  and  her 
friend — a  sort  of  merry  drama,  with  much  shifting  of  scenes, 
to  which  Mammy  Charlottee,  with  her  unobtrusive  ways  and 
quiet  smile,  pleased  by  her  young  mistress's  pleasure,  formed 
a  kindly  chorus.  It  was  gay  with  life  when  the  June  sun 
shone  on  the  sparkling,  ruffled  waters  of  the  bay;  glorious 
when  the  sunset's  gold  lay  broken  along  that  liquid  floor  and 
vivid  cloud-splendors  were  below  as  well  as  above;  spiritual 
in  its  beauty  when  the  mcron  swept  slowly  over  heaven,  paled 
now  and  then  by  the  thin  cloud  veils  that  passed  her;  weird 
and  grotesque  in  its  solemnity,  yet  with  some  elements  of  a 


8  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

fascinating,  unearthly  grace,  as  they  steamed  up  the  Stygian 
river  between  the  feathery  wading  cypresses  in  the  early 
brightness  of  another  day. 

At  the  landing  nearest  Cypress  Beach  they  were  surprised 
not  to  find  the  old  family  carriage  awaiting  them ;  but  a  row- 
boat  was  moored  to  the  wharf,  and  Noah,  the  taciturn  negro 
oarsman,  came  forward  touching  his  cap.  They  entered  the 
boat,  and  were  rowed  some  distance  up  the  river  to  a  point 
where  a  brook-like  water-way  led  to  a  round  land-locked 
cove.  Above  the  opposite  shore  of  this  little  sheet  rose  the 
gardens  and  walls  of  Cypress  Beach.    . 

As  they  sped  toward  this  ancestral  home,  Jessica  let  her 
fingers  trail  in  the  water ;  laughing  to  herself  in  a  musical, 
infantine  way,  which  seemed,  in  the  sunshine,  to  cover  her 
face  with  bright  ripples.  One  of  her  mannerisms  often  de- 
nounced by  women,  but  somehow  liked  by  most  men,  was  to 
revert  fitfully  to  the  speech  and  behavior  of  very  early  girl- 
hood. There  was  no  particular  forethought  about  it;  and  she 
still  looked  undeniably  too  young  to  seem  at  all  ridiculous. 

Glancing  up  with  demure  roguishness,  she  said — 

"  How  I  should  like  to  find  something  that  Mr.  Chauncey 
cannot  paint !" 

Then  pointing  toward  the  beach,  she  cried,  with  a  sudden 
mock  animation  of  manner — 

"  There  it  is  !     There  it  is  !" 

Shaking  her  head  comically,  she  announced,  "  No,  no,  he 
can't  do  that."  Then,  sinking  back,  she  added,  "  Jessica  thinks 
so,"  in  a  complacent,  purring  sing-song.  In  her  baby  moods 
she  was  fond  of  mentioning  herself  in  the  third  person. 

Chauncey  answered  in  a  half-playful  but  significant  voice — 

"It  is  very  pleasant  to  be  thought  about  at  all  by- " 

He  did  not  imitate  her  reference  to  herself,  being  stopped 
by  an  unmistakable  change  of  manner. 

"By  Miss  Jessica  Armstrong — is  it  possible  you  mean  that? 
O,  these  men — these  men !" 


ACCOMAC.  9 

"They  arc  a  bad  lot,"  he  admitted,  thoughtfully.  **I  have 
always  suspected  they  were  a  flaw  in  the  scheme  of  the  uni- 
verse." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  she,  shaking  her  head  with  merry  know- 
ingness;  "you  are  not  to  evade  my  challenge.  Now,  cotild 
you  paint  the  secret  of  that  beach  with  its  contrast?  Oh,  I 
know  you  would  treat  it  symbolically;  you  would  give  us  a 
grinning  African  with  his  teeth  all  in  sight." 

He  paused  in  critical  doubt.  "  If  our  good  friend  Noah 
there  would  only  smile  his  very  best." 

"  What  Noah  ?"  she  answered,  laughing  lightly.  "  Noah 
never  smiles."  With  that  she  couched  her  head  sidewise  and 
looked  archly  at  her  dark  attendant ;  but  his  face  kept  all  the 
decorous  blankness  of  a  pall.  "Noah  smile?"  she  repeated 
with  an  uneas}%  quizzical  look,  "  Not  he !  not  if  Doomsday 
were  coming  to-morrow !" 

"  Miss  Jessie !"  murmured  Mammy  Charlotte,  in  a  fright- 
ened, deprecating  voice. 

"  Never  mind,  Maumee,"  purred  the  young  mistress,  caress- 
ingly; "it  isn't,  you  know." 

But  even  while  she  spoke  her  eyes  followed  those  of  Robert 
Chauncey  to  the  house  above  the  terraced  garden  ;  and  she 
turned  away  with  a  shuddering,  indrawn  breath. 

"I  cannot  look  on  it,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "We  are 
rowing  right  into  a  strange  mist." 

"  It  is  nothing,"  answered  Chauncey,  lightly,  "An  odd  play 
of  reflection  and  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  going  by.  Clouds 
have  a  right  to  go  by,  I  suppose?     See,  it  is  gone." 

She  looked  again.  Yes,  the  old  house  was  in  clear  sun- 
shine.    She  could  see  no  cloud  in  the  sky. 


CHAPTER    II. 


MONARCH    OF    ALL    I    SURVEY. 


Jessica  had  hardly  landed  when  a  tumult  arose  beyond  the 
house.  A  full  voice,  which  might  have  been  heard  a  mile, 
roared,  "John!  Jahn!  Jawn!  Noah!  Sam!  Hi-i !  Whoo-ee!" 
Then  there  was  a  pause,  followed  by  prodigious  emphasis. 
"You  infernal  rahscals!  Hyaar,  John!  Zounds  and  death! 
John!" 

Chauncey  looked  at  his  companion  in  dismay.  He  could 
no  more  have  roared  at  anybody  than  he  could  have  wrecked 
a  railway  train.  "  Has  anything  broken  loose  about  here  ?" 
he  asked. 

Jessica  laughed  merrily.  "Only  Uncle  Roger,"  she  re- 
plied. "  He  is  in  a  hurry  for  the  servants  to  put  away  his 
horse  so  that  he  can  come  and  meet  us." 

"Ah,  I  see,"  he  replied,  dryly;  "quite  unique  and  inter- 
esting." 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  replied,  roguishly,  "and  he  will  find  your 
comment  equally  so." 

Chauncey  whistled  just  above  his  breath  and  looked  round 
as  if  seeking  an  outlet. 

Before  he  spoke  there  came  plunging  down  the  terraces  a 
bright-eyed,  shaggy,  grey  colt,  unbridled  and  saddleless,  with 
a  sunny  boy  of  ten  astride  of  him,  who  tossed  his  arms  in 
time  with  his  disordered  hair,  and  called  gaily  as  he  rode. 
Just  as  this  young  Bedouin  seemed  about  to  wreak  destruc- 
tion upon  his  guests,  he  sheered  aside,  and  after  one  or  two 
curvetings  dropped  to  the  ground  before  them. 


"  MONARCH  OF  ALL  I  SURVEY."  I  i 

"Cousin  Jessie,  Cousin  Jessie!"  he  cried,  in  delight.  "I'm 
so  glad  you've  come  !  'Deed,  'ndeed  I  am  !  We'll  have  heaps 
an'  heaps  of  fun  now!" 

"T/iat  we  will,  Prince!"  replied  Jessica,  as  she  stooped  and 
kissed  him,  using  the  nickname  which  had  been  earned  by  a 
certain  lordliness  in  some  of  the  ways  of  this  little  Roger,  her 
uncle's  grandson,  and  an  orphan  like  herself 

Prince  broke  out  again,  "  I  said  you'd  come  !  I  knew  you'd 
come  !  Gran'  would  have  it  you  wouldn't  be  here  till  to-mor- 
row, but  he  don't  know  you  like  /do,  Cousin  Jessie.  I  7/iade 
Noah  go  after  you." 

Then  he  seemed  to  become  aware  that  he  was  icrnorincr  her 
e  cort,  and  turned  to  the  latter  with  a  shy,  native  courtesy  that 
sat  rather  stiffly  on  him  as  yet. 

"I  beg  pardon,  sir,"  he  said;  "I  am  right  glad  to  see  you. 

But  I  only  saw "  and  he  turned  toward  Jessica  with  a  light 

laugh,  as  though  the  sight  of  her  melted  all  his  little  cere- 
mony. 

Robert  Chauncey's  heart  warmed  toward  this  small  gentle- 
man who  had  blundered  instinctively  on  so  high  a  compli- 
ment. 

"Mr.  Chauncey,"  said  Jessica,  "this  is  my  cousin  Prince, 
sometimes  called  Roger,  this  little  flatterer." 

"Flatterer,  Cousin  Jessie!"  he  expostulated,  with  reproach- 
ful dignity;  then  added,  "I  am  very  happy  to  know  you,  Mr. 
Chauncey." 

"  I  can  see  already  that  the  pleasure  will  be  mutual,"  re- 
sponded the  latter,  with  all  decorum. 

"Won't  you  walk  up?"  suggested  Prince,  turning  to  lead 
the  way.  "  Grandfather  will  be  here  presently;  I  heard  him 
at  the  stables  just  now.  Ah,  here's  my  hat;  it  blew  off  as  I 
rode." 

"Rode!"  exclaimed  Chauncey,  "I  should  think  you  did, 
my  boy!  General  Putnam  might  have  taken  lessons  from 
you." 


12  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"  General  Putnam  ?"  queried  Prince.  "  Oh,  he  was  a  Yan- 
kee." Then,  in  dread  lest  he  had  given  offence,  he  hurriedly 
added,  "  But  I  hope  you're  not  a  Yankee." 

"Not  exactly,"  answered  Chauncey,  willing  to  help  him  out, 
"  only  a  New  Yorker." 

Prince  looked  puzzled.  All  Northerners  were  Yankees  to 
him,  and  the  term  was  opprobrious.  But  he  understood  that 
Robert  was  not  offended,  and  he  felt  vastly  relieved. 

As  they  neared  the  house  its  owner  came  rolling  through 
the  doorway  with  a  sailor-like  gait,  which  yet  carried  him 
rapidly,  for  his  abundant  adipose  was  dominated  by  more 
abundant  muscle.  His  large  head,  which  often  bent  a  little 
forward  to  keep  the  bodily  balance,  was  now  raised  to  greet 
them,  showing  a  broad,  high  forehead  and  Jove-like  benignity 
of  countenance.  His  face  seemed  the  natural  abode  of  sun- 
shine. AH  its  smiles  began  in  and  about  his  joyous,  boy-like, 
blue  eyes,  but  even  his  luxuriant  brown  beard  could  not 
effectually  hide  their  spreading.  It  was  a  face  susceptible  of 
frowns,  too — sudden,  brief,  and  dark  as  a  July  storm,  and 
charged  with  as  trenchant  lightning.  He  would  have  no 
compromise  with  anything  that  savored  of  deception  or  even 
sordidness.  The  hand  of  the  bribe-taker  or  wire-puller,  the 
tongue  of  the  liar,  the  heart  of  the  coward,  were  members 
which  he  longed  to  tear  out  and  trample  under  foot;  and  he 
did  so  as  far  as  words  could  effect  it.  This  terrific  and  un- 
flinching frankness  had  almost  wrought  his  exclusion  from 
politics,  in  spite  of  his  fluency  and  cogency  of  speech,  his 
intensity  of  conviction,  his  great  though  often  impracticable 
intellect,  and  his  local  influence  as  the  head  of  a  long-respect- 
ed and  many-acred  family — a  sort  of  surviving  colonial 
magnate. 

Every  one  felt  the  charm  of  his  presence  and  character- 
The  negroes  whom  he  roared  at  in  his  fits  of  impatience  had 
long  ago  set  them  down  to  "his  way,"  knowing  that  he  would 
never  inquire  how  they  voted,  nor  punish  even  the  most  inso- 
lent contradiction  if  they  could  show  truth  or  justice  on  their 


"MONARCH   OK   ALL   I   SURVEY."  I  3 

side.  The  young  girls  liked  him  for  his  patriarchal  gallantry; 
men  and  women  of  equal  years,  for  his  frank  courtesy  and 
constant  good  spirits ;  the  aged,  for  his  almost  reverential  re- 
gard ;  but  most  of  all  was  he  worshipped  by  the  rough,  gnarled 
men  of  the  waste  places,  and  by  the  little  children  of  both  rich 
and  poor. 

"Why,  Jessie!"  he  exclaimed,  radiantly,  holding  out  two 
rather  chubby  hands,  where  the  brown  freckles  almost  hid  the 
natural  fairness  of  the  fine  skin.  "Why,  Jessie,  m.y  darling!" 
And  he  bent  down  to  kiss  her  fresh  young  face,  murmuring 
in  pleased  surprise,  "  Well,  well,  well !  But  indeed  I  did  not 
expect  you  to-day." 

"  You  didn't,  uncle !  Why  what  do  we  live  In  tliis  age  of 
wires  and  lightning  for?  I  certainly  made  use  of  them.  That 
is  Mr.  Chauncey — pardonnez,  Mr.  Armstrong,  Mr.  Chauncey." 

As  they  shook  hands  her  uncle  suggested,  "  I  see  some 
ladies  still  remember  how  to  keep  the  youngsters  about  them. 
Well,  I  am  glad  of  it — being  the  gainer  in  this  instance." 

Before  Chauncey  could  bring  his  compliment  to  bear,  Jes- 
sica struck  in  with  a  knowing  smile  and  shake  of  the  head — 

"Ah,  ah  !  all  very  well !    But,  Uncle  Roger,  if  you  knew 

Oh,  but  I  will  tell  him,  though.  Uncle  Roger,  he  wanted  to 
know  if  'anything  had  broken  loose.'  I  think  he  had  suspi- 
cions of  a  menagerie." 

Mr.  Armstrong  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  then  began 
laughing  gently.  "  Oh,  it  was  when  I  was  calling  for  the  men 
to  put  away  my  horse.  Well,  I  am  a  menagerie  sometimes. 
I  have  som^e  of  the  slowest  niggers  on  earth.  Have  to  rare 
on  'em  now  and  then.  Can't  help  it.  Well  meaning  darkeys, 
too.     Confound  'em." 

"Anybody  would  shout  to  get  into  Miss  Jessica's  company," 
quoth  Robert  Chauncey.  "  Even  our  colored,  camp-meeting 
friends  shout  to  get  ^o  heaven." 

"  That  ought  to  commend  you  to  her  good  graces,"  re- 
sponded the  elder  man,  still  laughing.  "But  they  delight  in 
experimenting  on  our  susceptibilities.     I  say  'our,'  for  /am  a 


14 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


boy,  too.  When  the  youthfulness  goes  out  of  me,  I  hope  the 
vital  spark  will  not  linger.  But  about  the  message — I  sup- 
pose it  is  pigeon-holed  in  Nodaway,  as  usual.  I  regret  ex- 
ceedingly that  I  did  not  receive  the  intelligence  in  time  to  have 
the  carriage  at  the  wharf.  But  come,  I  musn't  leave  you  in 
the  sun  and  the  outer  atmosphere.  Jessie,  >ou  are  lady  of 
the  house  now.  An  old  widower's  establishment,  Mr.  Chaun- 
cey;  pray  make  allowances." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Roger  Armstrong,  that  he  rarely 
mentioned  the  air  as  such.  He  could  use  the  simplest  and 
most  direct  Saxon  on  occasion;  but  latinized  English  was  his 
normal  vehicle  of  thought  and  speech.  Sometimes  this  had  a 
quaint  effect.  A  bit  of  fresh  human  feeling  wrapped  in  these 
polysyllables  seemed  very  liko  a  rosy-faced  darling  masquer- 
ading in  the  state  dress  of  her  grandmother. 

As  Chauncey  and  Jessica  passed  on  before  him,  Mr.  Arm- 
strong felt  Prince  tugging  at  his  coat,  and  turned  to  hear  the 
query — 

"  Gran,  what  did  he  mean  when  he  said  he  was  a  New 
Yorker,  but  not  a  Yankee  ?" 

The  grandfather  looked  alarmed.  "  My  boy,"  he  exclaimed, 
in  the  lowest  tone  his  voice  would  take;  "I  hope  you  have 
not  been  indulging  in  any  unwise  allusions.  Remember  that 
a  gentleman  never  says  anything  to  wound  the  feelings  of  an- 
other.    I  know  of  no  surer  test." 

"  I  didn't  mean  to,"  replied  the  boy,  with  quivering  lips. 

Roger  Armstrong  beamed  down  upon  him  and  patted  his 
sunny  hair,  saying,  *'  I  am  sure  of  it." 

After  dinner — the  old-fashioned  noonday  meal — he  took 
Robert  Chauncey  out  for  a  visit  to  the  stables,  a  drive,  and  a 
general  inspection  of  the  farms.  It  was  a  purely  conventional 
proceeding  on  both  sides.  Chauncey  could  not  possibly  have 
declined  any  invitation  from  a  host,  and  the  elder  gentleman 
was  dominated  by  a  dreadful  sense  of  propriety  which  forbade 
him  to  omit  the  customary  attention  to  a  guest.  So,  though 
the  one  longed  to  remain  about  the  house  (where  Jessica  was), 


MONARCH   OF  ALL  I  SURVEY.' 


15 


and  the  other  must,  at  least,  have  suspected  his  longinp^,  ard 
both  of  them  woujd  have  preferred  to  gratify  it,  they  combined 
to  remove  him  to  very  different  scenes. 

Robert  Chauncey,  however,  had  a  humming-bird's  easy 
consolability,  and  his  artist's  eye  turned  with  something  more 
than  a  good  grace  to  the  perfectly  formed  barb,  plunging  and 
curveting  in  a  circle  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  around  the  warily- 
turning,  proud-faced  groom.  But  when  he  heard  an  abnor- 
mally fat  hog  commended  as  "beautiful,"  and  was  informed 
that  the  true  test  of  a  sheep's  beauty  was  its  "approximation 
to  the  form  of  a  parallelogram,"  he  began  most  unjustly  to 
suspect  an  intention  to  quiz.  If  Mr.  Armstrong  could  have 
made  a  fortune  by  raising  symmetrical  animals  of  the  edible 
species,  he  would  still  have  gone  on  fattening  them  into  mon- 
strosities. His  triumph  in  their  approach  to  his  ideals  would 
have  compensated  for  any  loss. 

Mr.  Armstrong's  farming  commended  itself  to  Robert 
Chauncey,  for  it  was  mainly  carried  on  in  a  buggy.  Once  or 
twice  a  day  he  drove  from  farm  to  farm,  and  from  field  to  field, 
consulting  and  joking  with  the  overseers,  inspecting  the  work 
of  every  hand,  storming  at  the  lazy  or  careless,  rebuking  the 
cruel,  listening  to  the  complaints  of  the  captious,  instructing 
the  ignorant  or  clumsy,  encouraging  the  diligent,  and  stimu- 
lating all.  But  it  maybe  doubted  whether  his  stentorian  cen- 
sures and  exhortations  always  produced  their  due  effect.  The 
darkey  ordinarily  scratched  his  head  when  his  employer's  back 
was  turned,  with  a  comical  look  that. foreboded  a  return  to  his 
derelictions. 

That  evening  Chauncey  was  made  aware  of  some  other 
peculiarities  of  his  host.  The  latter,  who  was  in  fine  spirits 
and  desirous  of  entertaining,  soon  took  the  conversation 
entirely  to  himself,  and  narrated  story  after  story  with  in- 
finite action  and  no  little  imitative  power.  Chauncey  did  not 
know  (and  Mr.  Armstrong  himself  certainly  did  not,)  how 
many  times  these  anecdotes  had  done  duty  before.  They 
made  up  all   in  all   a  standing  stock  of  about  forty,  which 


l6  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

almost  seemed  to  have  been  labeled  and  set  aside  for  future 
reference.  Three  or  four  related  to  his  early  college  life; 
every  trip  that  he  had  made  to  the  great  cities  of  the  North, 
had  added  another;  electoral  and  legislative  experiences  had 
thrown  in  a  small  quota;  something  had  been  derived  from 
the  efforts  of  negroes  to  escape  in  the  old  patrol  days,  and 
from  the  stormier  experiences  of  the  war ;  and  the  great  bulk 
of  the  remainder  were  derived  from  his  observation  of  strange 

o 

characters  and  incidents  in  his  immediate  neighborhood. 
Taken  down  as  he  told  them,  they  would  have  made  a  very 
instructive  and  racy  panorama  of  a  vanished  or  vanishing 
order  of  things. 

In  repeating  these  the  old  gentleman  showed  as  great 
delight  as  his  auditor  ;  but  when  the  latter  attempted  a  story 
of  his  own  (presuming  on  an  established  city  reputation  for 
quaintness  and  vivacity  of  humor  and  the  power  of  placing 
salient  points  in  a  novel  light,)  Roger  Armstrong's  eyes  began 
to  blink  before  the  third  sentence  was  uttered.  Chauncey 
hurried  on  to  the  thrilling  climax,  but  just  before  it  was 
reached  he  saw  a  series  of  nods  end  in  a  dead  sleep.  Then 
Jessica,  who  had  been  unusually  still,  came  to  his  aid  with  an 
offer  to  play  something.  As  they  moved  toward  the  piano, 
they  heard  her  uncle's  sudden  voice — "Exceedingly  interest- 
ing, sir,  exceedingly  interesting!" 

Then  he  nodded  off  again,  while  Jessica,  smiling  sedately, 
touched  the  keys.  The  smile  died  away  as  her  fingers  and 
soul  seemed  to  flow  in  accord  from  note  to  note  of  the  un- 
earthly music  which  she  had  chosen,  the  Spirit  Waltz  of 
Beethoven.  Her  rendering  of  this  had  always  a  special 
quality,  but  now  its  effect  was  so  subtly  heightened  that 
Chauncey  found  himself  wondering  what  could  have  hap- 
pened during  his  absence. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  REVISITING    THE    GLIMPSES." 

Something  had  happened.  On  finding  herself  left  queen 
regnant,  Jessica  naturally  undertook  a  sort  of  general  visita- 
tion of  her  indoor  realm;  the  rather  disorderly  kitchen  with 
its  broad-faced,  grinning  occupant,  the  cellar-dairy  with  its 
row  on  row  of  creaming  milk-pans  and  its  half-dozen  barrels 
of  well-ripened  peach  brandy,  the  parlor,  the  dining-room, 
and  the  sleeping  apartments,  all  in  their  diverse  bravery  of 
old-time  furniture  and  ornament.  There  was  doubtless  much 
that  might  have  been  changed  for  the  better;  but  she  found 
a  pleasure  in  noting  that  no  iconoclastic  reforms  had  been  in 
progress  since  her  last  visit. 

Before  she  had  quite  satisfied  her  mind  on  this  point, 
Prince  pounced  upon  her  and  carried  her  off  with  familiar 
turbulence  for  a  ''pull  on  the  cove."  While  this  proud 
young  oarsman  sent  their  boat  dexterously  in  and  out  of 
the  cypress  shadows,  a  curious  thought  mounted  from  her 
heart  to  her  lips. 

"  Prince,"  asked  she,  suddenly,  "  what  is  there  behind  the 
great  panel  above  the  dining-room  fireplace  ?  It  stands  out 
so  much  at  one  end" — indicating  with  her  fingers  the  size  of 
the  gap. 

"  No,  Cousin  Jessie,  not  that  much,"  protested  the  boy. 
*  I  flung  a  ball  against  it  last  winter  and  loosened  it." 

"  But  what  is  in  there  ?     What  did  you  find  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  he  answered ;  "  'deed  that  was  all.  I  only 
peeped  in  a  little.     I  reckon  there's  only  a  big  hole,  a  great 

3  17 


1 8  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

square,  empty  place,  like  there  is  behind  all  the  panels  over 
the  mantelpieces.     They  sound  hollow  when  you  hit  'em." 

**  So  there  was  nothing,"  persisted  she,  musing. 

"  Dead  loads  of  it ;  and  I  saved  the  whole  treasure  against 
your  coming.  Miss  Curiosity,"  he  replied,  pertly. 

She  menaced  him  with  uplifted  hand,  but  he  did  not  look 
alarmed. 

"  Prince,"  asked  she  again,  presently,  "  will  you  help  me  to 
look  behind  that  panel  when  we  get  back?" 

"  That  I  will,"  he  answered,  with  a  look  of  surprise.  "  But 
can't  we  let  the  panel  alone  for  a  little  while  ?  We  can  get  to 
see  what  there  is  behind  it  easy  enough  by  and  by." 

**  Oh,  yes,"  she  responded,  lightly,  and  gave  herself  to  the 
frolic  with  such  zest  that  the  afternoon  was  far  spent  before 
they  returned  to  the  house. 

Mounted  on  chairs  before  the  loosened  panel,  the  two 
pryed  away  in  diligent  expectation ;  till  suddenly  it  fell  out- 
ward with  a  crash,  and  a  great  cloud  of  soot  and  mould  and 
plaster.  Jessica,  uttering  a  little  shriek,  sprang  aside  just  in 
time  to  avoid  the  shower;  but  her  cousin,  according  to  the 
luckless  doom  of  boys,  was  less  fortunate.  A  sharp  outcry, 
which  even  his  ambition  of  manhood  could  not  suppress, 
showed  that  for  the  moment  he  was  blinded.  Hence  he  did 
not  see  the  fall  of  a  thick  roll  of  charred  paper,  nor  the  quick 
motion  of  his  companion,  who  seized  and  secreted  it,  as  she 
hurried  to  his  assistance.  She  acted  on  impulse  in  this ;  and 
afterward  refrained — she  hardly  knew  why — from  mentioning 
her  prize  to  any  one,  till  night  should  give  her  full  leisure  to 
examine  it. 

Before  going  upstairs  that  evening,  she  bent  over  her 
dozing  uncie  and  kissed  his  great  forehead.  **Assu redly, 
assuredly !"   he   exclaimed,   looking  up  quickly. 

She  laughed  lightly,  "Assuredly  what,  dear  uncle?" 

"Why,  why — here  it  is,"  fumbling  in  his  waistcoat  pocket. 
*'Were  you  not  making  inquiry  relativ^e  to  the  ring?" 

"  Ring  !     What  ring  ?" 


REVISITING  THET  GLIMPSES. 


19 


"I  must  have  been  dozini^  mighty  soundly,"  he  answered, 
with  a  good-humored  laugh.  "  I  certainly  thought  you  had 
come,  my  dear,  to  upbraid  me  for  my  dilatoriness  in  transfer- 
ring the  ring  to  your  possession.  Ah,  here  it  is;  your  cousin 
Sarah  brought  it  yesterday  for  you.  It  had  been  mislaid,  or 
put  away  and  forgotten  for  many  years  ;  but  she  thinks,  and 
I  believe  correctly,  that  it  can  be  no  other  than  The  Lady's 
Ring,  which,  you  know%  tradition  connects  with  the  first  oc- 
cupant of  this  house.  Tliere  were  at  one  time  all  manner  of 
fanciful  legends  about  it,  mostly  forgotten  now  I  believe,  so 
that  it  is  a  very  approprite  as  well  as  an  unique  present  for  our 
mystery-loving  young  lady.  Allow  me" — and  without  more 
ado  he  slipped  it  on  her  finger. 

"Am  I  so  very  mysterious,  uncle  ?"  asked  Jessica,  in  an 
uncomfortable  voice  that  tried  to  be  mirthful,  but  without  dar- 
ing to  give  offence  by  a  superstitious  refusal.  Nevertheless, 
something,  perhaps  the  rather  ghostly  idea  of  its  antiquity 
and  long  disuse,  sent  a  cold  thrill  through  her  arm  and  body. 
She  did  not,  however,  allow  this  to  prevent  her  from  going 
into  lady-like  raptures  over  the  ring. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked,  turnino;  the  broad  face  of  its  sinsjle 
gem  toward  Robert  Chauncey. 

"I  should  call  it  an  opal,"  he  answered.  "But  no,  I  have 
never  seen  anything  just  like  it.  How  it  changes!  Almost 
as  if  it  were  alive  !  Yes,  it  is  strangely  beautiful."  He  added 
in  an  underbreath  his  usual  expletive  comment,  but  with  more 
meaning  than  the  words  generally  carried — "That  is  no  good 
thing." 

Five  minutes  later,  Jessica,  half  disrobed  and  comfortably 
tumbled  into  a  huge  rocking  chair,  was  reading  her  captured 
manuscript  by  lamplight.  It  was  in  a  lady's  hand  of  bygone 
days,  and  must  once  have  been  neat  as  well  as  clearly  legible  ; 
but  fire  had  burned  away  or  badly  charred  many  of  the  pages. 
As  Jessica  puzzled  over  the  quaint  archaisms  and  the  blurs 
and  blotches  that  too  often  obscured  the  meaning,  the  fancy 
grew  on  her  that  the  writer  had  tossed  the  narrative  on  the 


20  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

nearly  dead  embers  some  midnight  centuries  before,  and  then, 
the  fire  faiHng  to  wholly  do  its  work,  had  hastily  snatched  up 
the  leaves  and  crowded  them  out  of  sight — as  she  supposed 
for  ever.  There  was  something  very  chill  and  shadow-like  in 
sitting  there  amid  just  such  another  hush  of  night  and  read- 
ing the  secret  records  of  the  long  dead.  The  light  touch  of 
willow  branches  on  the  window  panes  made  her  shrink  as 
though  a  spectral  hand  warned  her  back  from  an  unholy  task. 
The  low  moans  of  the  rising  wind  as  it  swept  around  the  old 
walls  seemed  instinct  with  more  than  elemental  complainings. 
The  very  chirp  of  the  house-cricket  startled  her.  But  curiosity 
and  somewhat  more  held  her  to  the  task. 

"  I  would  not  be  conceived,"  began  the  writer,  "either  peev- 
ishly or  presumptuously  to  kick  against  the  decrees  of  Heaven 
I  hope  that  I  have  made  that  right  Christian  use  of  my  afflic- 
tions: though,  in  truth,  not  merited  by  any  pravity  of  conduct 
industriously  entertained  -by  me  or  radicated  in  my  nature. 

"  Well,  and  with  right  good  conscience,  may  I  call  my 
father  notorious,  for  though  His  Majesty  had  withdrawn  his 
countenance  from  him,  yet  none  the  sooner  did  he  receive 
advertisements  by  express  message  that  His  Majesty  was 
sorely  straitened,  than  he  made  several  cavalcades  through 
the  north  country  for  His  Majesty's  recruit,  and  did  infest 
in  especial  those  places  which  displayed  a  violent  affection 
for  the  enemy,  until  that  party  was  reduced  to  a  lowness  in 
those  parts,  and  he  did  often  have  good  execution  upon 
them.  He  did  apparently,  and  beyond  all  question,  win  the 
most  notable  triumphs." 

Here  followed  a  number  of  illegible  pages,  probably  relat- 
ing to  the  progress  and  termination  of  the  civil  wars  and  the 
restoration  of  King  Charles  H.    Then  came  a  clear  paragraph  : 

"  He  had  at.  this  time  a  design  presently  to  marry  me;  to 
which  purpose  he  had  an  overture  from  a  noble  family  on  the 
behalf  of  a  well-bred,  hopeful,  young  gentleman,  who  had  the 
honor  to  be  a  menial  servant  to  the  king  in  a  place  neai'  his 
person." 


"REVISITING   THE  GLIMPSES."  21 

Then  succeeded  indistinct  reminiscences  of  court  life. 
Somewhat  plainer  than  the  rest  were  a  few  words  referring 
to  the  influence  of  the  monarch  over  the  fair  sex.  "And 
they  did  say  that  he  had  a  ring,  the  which  was  given  him  by 
one  of  the  many  outlandish  women  who  do  company  with 
sturdy  beggars  from  foreign  parts.  And  many  there  were 
who  questioned  whether  any  woman  who  wore  that  gaud 
could" — the  rest  of  the  page  was  burnt. 

A  little  further  on  was  a  longer  decipherable  passage.  "  It 
fell  out,  as  I  was  but  exercising  myself  one  day  in  the  park, 
that  His  Majesty,  companied  by  the  two  dogs  that  kept 
with  his  lesser  peregrinations,  did  of  a  sudden  unthought- 
fully  come  out  of  a  by-way;  whereat  my  Spanish  jennet, 
even  like  any  vulgarly  spirited  creature,  did  rear  in  exceed- 
ing great  panic  fear  and  cast  me  off  on  the  ground.  Surely 
I  should  have  suffered  exceeding  from  this  disgrace,  but  that 
the  king  did  with  the  most  industrious  promptness  retrieve 
me  from  all  danger,  grieving  and  .lamenting  my  dire  strait. 
In  sooth  ,  finding  myself  not  likely  to  suffer  nor  shrewdly 
hurt,  I  could  not  but  be  sensible  of  a  delight  in  His  Majesty's 
solicitude;  for  he  had  a  very  flowing  courtesy  and  such  a 
volubility  of  manner  as  surprised  and  delighted.  Nor  let  it 
be  doubted  [/.  c,  suspected^  that  I  set  these  things  down  in  or- 
der in  pure  gaiety  [/.  e.,  idleness],  for  in  truth  they  had  serious 
concernment  with  my  troubles  thereafter ;  wherefore  even 
at  this  writing  I  am  exceeding  grieved  and  heartless — a  sore 
burden  not  to  be  admired  at  by  any  who  know  my  story.  Yet 
that  day  I  could  see  but  the  pleasantness  of  his  apparent  ro}'al 
favor ;  the  which  was  the  more  palpable  and  notorious,  inas- 
much as  after  divers  passages  of  gracious  condescension,  he 
would  not  suffer  me  to  refuse  a  certain  ring  of  most  signal 
and  unique  beauty ;  and  charged  me  straitly  to  wear  the  same 
at  all  times,  in  his  remembrance.  Whereat,  I  quickly  did  find 
myself  most  notable  and  of  respect  in  ev^ery  one's  mouth;  un- 
til  " 

The  latter  part  of  the  narrative  was  nearly  obliterated.  Jes- 
sica found  many  indications  of  external  luxury  and  internal 


22  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

conflict,  with  frequent  allusions  to  an  influence  which  could 
not  be  shaken  off.  The  ring  here  and  there  seemed  to  be  an 
object  of  aversion  and  fear,  yet  the  writer  had  not  dared  to 
remove  it  lest  the  king  should  be  displeased;  and  before  long 
all  such  rebellious  desires  seemed  to  have  ceased,  and  the  gem 
was  lost  to  sight  in  the  multitude  of  adornments  lavished  upon 
her.  At  last  something  had  brought  about  her  sudden  down- 
fall and  exile;  but  the  final  pages  which  would  probably  have 
given  the  particulars  were  missing. 

Jessica  laid  aside  the  charred  manuscript,  and  sat  piecing 
together  the  hints  which  it  gave,  till  there  rose  clearly  before 
her  the  vision  of  the  proud,  lovely  woman,  gay  with  her  own 
love  of  the  world's  brightness,  yielding  slowly  to  the  spell 
which  she  dared  not  or  could  not  cast  from  her,  and  lured 
onward  by  praise  and  power  to — the  long  heartbreak  of  this 
lonesome,  colonial  nook.  To  Jessica's  society-loving  nature 
even  the  minor  accessories  of  the  catastrophe  were  tragical. 

As  she  sat  thinking,  thinking,  she  seemed  to  hear  close  to 
her  ear  the  one  word  "  Beware  !" — very  low,  almost  a  whisper 
indeed,  but  quite  distinct.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  her 
super-sensibility  had  caused  such  illusions ;  but  now  there  was 
something  so  sinister  and  chill  in  the  tone  that  she  looked 
again  and  again  with  a  real  dread  at  the  mirror  in  front  of  her. 
As  she  glanced  aside  at  the  manuscript  the  same  word  stared 
at  her  from  the  charred  fragments  of  the  very  last  page. 
Bending,  shiveringly,  she  had  just  made  out,  as  she  thought, 
the  further  word  "ring,"  when  an  unlucky  movement  crum- 
bled the  whole  passage  into  soot.  She  flung  the  roll  from 
her,  and  looked  in  disgust  at  her  soiled  fingers.  This  brought 
the  ring  prominently  into  view  (by  that  light  it  was  of  a  dull, 
smouldering  red),  and  her  finger,  swollen  by  the  day's  heat 
and  exercise  and  the  recent  pressure  of  her  head  upon  her 
hand,  seemed  to  burn  under  it.  She  tried  impulsively  to  work 
off  this  painful  acquisition,  but  it  would  not  move.  The  re- 
sistance gave  her  time  to  ask  herself  what  excuse  she  could 
make  for  its  absence  to  her  uncle  and  the  donor.     The  thought 


"REVISITING  THE  GLIMPSES."  23 

of  failing  in  courtesy  or  appreciativeness  was  distressing, 
especially  on  account  of  a  fancy-born  terror  such  as  she 
would  be  ashamed  to  own.  So,  laughing  to  reassure  herself, 
she  finished  undressing,  and  'May  down  in  her  loveliness," 
with  the  ring  still  on  her  finger. 

Nevertheless,  lying  there  nervous  and  wakeful,  she  found  it 
a  sore  trial.  The  sensation  of  burning  persisted  beyond  all 
reason,  and  she  fancied  that  she  could  see  the  gem  flash  with 
the  lightning,  and  gleam  with  the  flickering  of  the  lamplight, 
as  some  adventurous  gust  shook  the  windows  and  blew  in 
through  the  crevices.  She  had  not  been  willing  to  trust  her- 
self to  the  dark,  but  she  had  failed  signally  to  bring  about  any- 
thing that  could  fairly  be  called  brightness.  The  muffled  tu- 
mult of  the  storm,  the  irregular  shadow  dance  on  the  thick 
walls,  the  eerie  noises  common  at  quiet  times  to  wind-visited 
old  houses,  all  entered  into  conspiracy  with  her  own  inner 
weakness  and  startling  fancies.  A  mysterious  foreboding  and 
terror  weighed  on  her  heart,  and  she  passed  from  wakefulness 
to  troubled  sleep,  and  from  sleep  to  wakefulness  again  without 
any  sense  of  relief.     The  morning  found  her  pale  and  worn. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


HARMONY   NOT    UNDERSTOOD. 


Robert  Chauncey  was  awakened  early  the  next  morning  by 
the  prodigious  voice  of  his  host  calling  to  the  overseer's  house 
or  to  the  negro  quarter.  Then  a  door  opened,  and  a  heavy 
tramp  came  down  the  hall.  Roger  Armstrong  was  about  to 
do  his  letter-writing  for  the  day.  His  mail  was  usually  a  large 
one,  coming  from  all  quarters  and  dealing  with  all  sorts  of  sub- 
jects. Amateur  farmers  wished  his  opinion  of  hogs  or  fertili- 
zers, legislative  aspirants  and  office-seekers  solicited  his  influ- 
ence, commission  merchants  in  the  cities  held  forth  on  their 
special  facilities,  inventors  and  manufacturers  trumpeted  their 
machinery,  philanthropists  and  county-improvers  called  upon 
him  for  aid,  friends  sent  him  news  of  the  latest  political  move- 
ments. He  felt  obliged  to  answer  each  of  these  politely 
(which  generally  meant  rather  voluminously),  and  the  still 
hours  about  sunrise  had  long  suited  this  purpose  best. 

When  Jessica  entered  the  breakfast  room  her  uncle  came 
cheerily  forward  with  his,  "  How  do  you  come  on  ?"  and  a 
cordial  kiss,  hardly  stopping  for  an  answer  before  greeting 
Chauncey,  and  passing  thence  to  the  practical  business  of  the 
occasion.  He  was  too  thorough  an  optimist  to  suspect  any 
ailment  which  was  not,  so  to  speak,  driven  into  his  notice. 
Beside,  it  would  have  seemed  to  him  quite  abnormal  that  an 
Armstrong  should  be  ill  at  ease  in  her  ancestral  home.  She 
was  making  a  determined  effort  to  seem  as  though  her  nerves 
were  not  unstrung  and  her  brain  hot  and  weary. 


"HARMONY  NOT  UNDERSTOOD."  ^^ 

The  meal  was  literally  a  light  breaking  of  fast  on  various 
kinds  of  bread,  with  coffee  and  relishes,  but  the  tendency  ta 
chat  made  it  longer  than  in  busier  regions. 

Prince,  spoiled  lad  that  he  was,  had  come  to  the  table;  con- 
siderably after  the  others.     His  grandfather  accosted  him — 

"  By  Zines,  boy,  but  this  won't  do.  Where  have  you  been, 
sir?" 

Prince  flushed,  but  answered  straight  to  the  mark — 

"  I  have  been  riding  the  bay  colt,  sir." 

"  Which  I  positively  prohibited  you  from  mounting,"  re- 
sponded the  elder  Roger, -looking  like  a  thunder-cloud.  "And 
thumping  him,  too,  I  warrant,  by  Zines,  sir." 

Prince  looked  distressed. 

"  I  hope  not,  sir." 

"Well,  sir,  you  may  go  to  your  room  and  remain  there  till 
noon.     Promise  me  that,  sir." 

Prince,  ready  to  cry  with  mortification,  simply  answered, 
"  Yes,  sir,"  and  marched  to  the  door. 

Jessica  refrained  from  saying,  "  Poor  little  fellow!"  know- 
ing that  pity  would  be  the  unbearable  last  drop  in  his  cup  of 
bitterness. 

Robert  Chauncey,  who  could  never  wholly  ignore  the 
humorous  side  of  things,  remarked  in  an  undertone — 

"  It  seems  that  the  *  little  hatchet'  game  is  not  always  a 
success." 

When  too  late  he  saw  that  he  had  been  overheard,  for 
Prince  tossed  his  vanishing  head  in  angry  scorn,  and  Mr. 
Armstrong  answered  severely — 

"  There  was  no  'game'  in  the  case,  sir.  I  trust  when  my 
grandson  sinks  so  low  as  to  require  an  incentive  to  tell  the 
whole  truth,  that  the  providence  of  God  may  speedily  remove 
us  both,  sir." 

Jessica  saw  that  there  was  danger  of  some  unpleasant  pas- 
sages, and  exerted  herself  valiantly  to  effect  a  dixersion. 
Luckily  neither  of  the  men  were  given  to  cherishing  grudges, 
so  before  the  young  lady's  vivacious  story  had  ended,  both 
were  laughing  heartily. 


26  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"  Come,"  ejaculated  her  uncle,  "  it's  too  bad  that  the 
youngster  should  lose  all  this.  Susan,  go  up  to  Mr.  Roger's 
room,  and  inform  him  that  we  desire  him  to  return  to  his 
breakfast,  d'ye  hear?" 

It  had  been  said  that  Smiling  Susan  would  certainly  grin 
at  her  own  funeral.  Giggles  were  respectfully  suppressed  in 
the  presence  of  her  superiors;  but  no  power  on  earth  could 
prevent  her  great  cheeks  from  rippling  as  they  shone,  even 
then.  She  never  had  smiled  harder  than  when  she  thought 
her  employer  and  his  visitor  were  about  to  quarrel ;  and  now 
that  she  was  going  on  an  errand  which  pleased  her  mightily, 
she  smiled  still. 

As  Prince  re-entered,  evidently  ''  in  charity  with  all  man- 
kind," his  grandfather  reached  him  the  hand  of  welcome,  and 
Jessica  (holding  herself,  however,  quite  matronly,  as  not  in- 
citing to  disorder)  encouraged  him  with — 

"  We'll  find  fun  enough  before  school  opens." 

"Yes,  Cousin  Jessie;"  then,  ruefully,  "It'll  come  soon 
enough ;"  and  then,  with  a  sudden  dash  of  resentment,  "  and 
they're  going  to  try  to  crowd  a  nig  in,  too." 

"  Zounds  and  death  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Armstrong,  "  I  shall 
express  to  the  principal  of  that  institution  my  most  unquali- 
fied condemnation."  His  manner  added  that  this  would  be  a 
dire  calamity  to  that  instructor. 

Chauncey  asked  demurely — 

"  Is  he  very  black  ?" 

"  No,  'ndeed,"  answered  Prince.  "  Dirty-yellow-white, 
mighty  near  chalk-white,  a  long  way  whiter'n  thaf — holding 
up  his  sunburnt  paw.  "  But  a  nigger's  a  nigger.  And  if 
they  crowd  him  in  there,  he'll  get  killed." 

"Oh!  oh!"  remonstrated  Robert.  "That  would  be  no 
good  racket." 

"It  would  be  perfectly  justifiable,"  burst  out  the  elder 
Armstrong,  in  full  blast ;  "  I  would  do  it  myself  It  is  an 
intuitive  impulse  implanted  in  the  human  heart,  sir.  Yet  I 
don't  blame  the  poor  negro,  sir ;  I  blame  the  devils  who  will 


HARMONY  NOT  UNDERSTOOD. 


27 


persist  in  thrusting  him  where  he  does  not  want  to  go,  to 
make  trouble.  And  as  for  miserable  rahscals  like  that  Ish- 
mael  Vamper,  who  are  deluding  the  ignorant  creatures  by 
their  vile  demagoguery  :  I  could  slioot  them — I  would  shoot 
Jiim  as  I  would  any  other ." 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  hurried  entrance  of  a  servant 
with  a  letter. 

"I  hope  you  will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Chauncey,"  said  the 
Accomac,  gentleman,  with  a  marvellous  change  of  tone; 
*'  this  seems  to  require  instant  attention,"  and  he  was  deep 
in  its  contents  the  next  moment.  This  was  not  of  a  charac- 
ter to  keep,  but  may  bear  transcribing. 

"  Hell's  broken  loose  in  Nodaway.  That  firebrand,  Vamper, 
is  in  a  fair  way  to  burn  us  all  up.  He  made  a  crazy  agrarian 
speech  to  a  crowd  of  negroes  last  night,  advising  them  not  to 
work  for  their  former  masters,  but  to  band  together  and  raise 
wages  higher  and  higher  to  compel  a  final  division  of  the 
land.  He  called  upon  them  to  sustain  *  the  cause  of  the 
Avorking  men,'  and  prophesied  a  general  uprising,  with  all 
manner  of  prizes  in  the  way  of  communism  and  revenge. 
This  stirred  the  people,  and  they  have  been  straggling  in 
-ever  since  daybreak.  Thus  far  there  are  no  injuries  except 
one  darkey  (pistol-ball  in  calf  of  leg);  but  there  have  been 
several  affrays,  and  we  may  have  hot  work  at  any  moment. 
To  make  matters  worse,  they  say  the  Wildcatters  are  coming 
down  in  force  to  lynch  Vamper.  Now  do  make  haste,  dear 
General" — the  country  people  generally  gave  him  this  title, 
though  he  had  never  borne  a  commission — "  and  use  your 
influence — no  one  else  has  so  much — to  allay  the  excitement 
of  the  people,  and  prevent  what  all  must  finally  regret." 

Before  the  signature  was  reached,  Roger  Armstrong  had 
forgotten  all  his  truculence.  His  only  thought  now  was  the 
necessity  of  immediate  action  to  avert  dire  trouble  and  crime. 
Without  the  least  consciousness  of  inward  change,  and  believ- 
ing himself  as  ever  the  most  consistent  of  men,  he  was  about 
to  peril  his  life  as  a  matter  of  course  to  prevent  the  very  deed 
which  he  had  just  announced  his  readiness  to  commit  in  per- 


28  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

son.  No  man  understood  better  than  he  the  lights  and  shadows 
of  those  unkempt,  ague-toughened,  Vendean-like  foresters — 
their  wayward  generosity,  their  crude  hospitality,  their  defer- 
ence for  hereditary  leaders,  their  intense  religious  convictions^ 
their  furious  and  enduring  pugnacity,  their  occasional  unre- 
lenting and  frightful  cruelty.  Even  their  best  friend  would 
find  little  safety  between  them  and  their  prey. 

There  was  no  fear,  in  his  case ;  but  there  were  certain  obsta- 
cles which  nearly  answered  the  same  purpose.  Just  as  he 
reached  the  door,  he  remembered  that  he  was  neglecting  one 
of  his  notable  rules  of  etiquette,  which  forbade  him  to  leave  a 
written  message  without  a  written  answer.  So  he  turned  back 
and  indited  some  ten  polysyllabic  sentences  expressing  his 
great  concern  at  the  "  calamitous  concurrence  of  circum- 
stances," and  his  determination  to  discharge  the  full  measure 
of  duties  "  devolving  upon  every  good  citizen  when  his  influ- 
ence may  be  of  service  in  preventing  so  deplorable  a  catastro- 
phe." This  dispatched  by  the  servant  who  had  brought  the 
letter  from  Nodaway,  he  hurried  to  his  "  conveyance." 

There  Jessica  awaited  him,  pale,  but  without  a  word  to  dis- 
suade from  his  main  purpose.     She  only  asked — 

*'  Why  zvill  you  take  that  balky  black  ?  Shall  I  tell  John  to 
get  another  horse?" 

**  No  !  No  !"  he  answered,  laughing  and  kissing  her.  After 
climbing  heavily  into  his  seat,  he  turned  and  added :  "  I  am 
resolved  to  break  this  fellow  of  his  tricks.  His  action  is  won- 
derful. Make  my  excuses  and  compliments  to  Mr.  Chauncey,, 
and  assure  him  that  I  regret  'jhe  loss  of  his  society  as  well  as 
my  breakfast."     Then  he  drove  off. 

At  no  great  distance  he  came  on  a  number  of  his  ewes  which 
had  strayed  into  the  highway,  and  which  one  or  two  of  his 
"  labor"  were  endeavoring  to  drive  through  a  gate.  The  be- 
wildered creatures  moved  at  cross-purposes  or  huddled  in 
seeming  obstinacy,  blocking  the  road.  He  might  have  urged 
his  horse  through  and  scattered  them  easily  enough  ;  but  he 
never  once  thought  of  such  an  irregular  proceeding.  With 
him  property  always  dominated  the  man  rather  than  the  man 


"HARMONY   NOT  UNDERSTOOD."  29 

the  property ;  and  farming  tradition  and  routine  took  prece- 
dence of  everything  except  King  Death. 

The  next  cause  of  delay  was  aesthetic.  A  fast  trotter  with 
excellent  "  points"  and  free,  noble  "  action"  passed  him,  and  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  call  the  groom  back  and  ask 
many  intricate  genealogical  questions.  After  the  equine  family 
tree  had  been  exhaustively  explored,  the  horse  was  put  through 
his  paces  and  duly  admired  and  criticised,  l^hen  Roger  Arm- 
strong drove  on  in  meditative  enjoyment. 

But  not  for  long.  The  splendid  black  which  drew  him, 
having  grown  properly  disgusted  with  these  successive  halts, 
retorted  in  kind  by  anchoring  himself  without  orders,  an  old 
trick  which  he  was  supposed  to  have  outgrown.  Armstrong, 
at  last  awakening  to  the  lapse  of  time  and  the  urgency  of  the 
crisis,  groaned  in  spirit  and  grew  all  afire  with  impatience 
Still,  he  kept  a  serene  face  and  used  only  dulcet  and  persua- 
sive tones.  Roaring  might  do  with  negroes,  but  it  had  no 
part  in  his  management  of  horses  ;  and  the  whip  was  a  dis- 
carded and  reprobated  article.  However,  his  diplomacy  elic- 
ited no  response  except  a  twitching  of  the  ears,  which  then 
settled  back  determinedly.  Roger  recognized  the  defiance, 
and  raved  away  below  his  breath,  before  calling  sweet  names 
again,  and  politely  requesting  him  to  move  on.  Next,  this 
strategic  driver  worked  gently  on  the  reins  and  tried  to  back, 
knowing  that  motion  is  more  easily  converted  into  motion 
than  quiescence  is  ;  but  the  knowing  brute  turned  sufficiently 
to  look  one  wheel  and  thereafter  held  his  neck  as  rigidly  awry 
as  if  cast  in  bronze.  Some  gentle  ticklings  only  made  him 
move  his  legs  as  though  preparing  to  launch  out  against  the 
dashboard.  Mr.  Armstrong  then  lowered  himself  cumbrously 
to  the  ground  and  led  his  horse.  But  this  grew  wearisome 
to  exhaustion,  and  as  soon  as  he  regained  his  seat  the  balking 
began  again.  He  was  at  his  wits'  end  ;  and,  to  make  matters 
worse,  the  village  was  now  so  near  that  he  could  hear  a  most 
alarming  hubbub,  broken  by  reports  of  firearms.  It  was  a 
study  for  a  sculptor — the  portly,  serene,  tormented  master,  and 
the  firmly-planted  brute. 


CHAPTER  V. 
"let  loose  for  a  season." 

Doubtless  Ishmael  Vamper  had  once  possessed  parents  and 
other  definite  antecedents  Hke  other  people ;  but  no  one  seemed 
to  know  anything  about  them.  He  had  brought  out  of  the 
shadows  of  his  earlier  life  a  kind  of  intermittent  hoverinsf  een- 
tility,  which  prevented  him  from  seeming  merely  brutal  by 
suggesting  something  worse.  Had  there  been  any  substantial 
good  in  him,  he  might  have  made  a  notable  figure  in  the 
world,  for  he  was  abundantly  supplied  with  brains,  and  in- 
tense though  fitful  energy,  and  that  inestimable  man-enthral- 
ling power  which  in  politics  we  term  "magnetism."  Even 
genius,  or  rather  an  uncanny  eidolon  or  semblance  of  genius, 
seemed  to  haunt  his  soul  and  flutter  about  much  that  he  did, 
like  the  tenants  of  Lord  Lytton's  haunted  house — not  spirits 
of  the  living  or  the  dead,  but  more  frightful  counterfeits,  with- 
out sympathy,  purpose,  or  any  human  attribute  ! 

After  a  varied  career  not  profitable  to  trace,  he  had  found 
himself  in  Washington  reduced  to  shabby  straits  and  unkempt 
disorder.  It  then  occurred  to  him  to  turn  his  very  savagery 
to  account  at  the  expense  of  the  legislators  of  the  country. 
He  knew  how  sensitive  a  political  barometer  tl.e  ordinary  con- 
gressman is,  and  he  saw  that  in  such  quarters  there  was  a 
growing  terror  of  what  was  known  as  the  labor  movement 
and  the  discontent  and  turbulence  which  were  rife  everywhere. 
He  set  up  forthwith  as  an  organizer  and  agitator,  and  soon 
acquired  some  notoriety  and  influence.  Then  he  entered  on 
his  programme  of  extortion. 


"LET  LOOSE  FOR  A  SEASON."  3  I 

When  the  card-summoned  congressional  victim  emerged 
into  the  hall  or  the  lobby,  he  would  find  himself  confronted 
by  a  sinewy,  threadbare,  jauntily  obtrusive  form,  a  colorless 
face,  mobile  yet  hard  and  jeering,  and  a  pair  of  grey  eyes  with 
an  unsteady,  rather  wild  light  in  them  :  and  he  would  be 
greeted  sardonically  in  this  wise — 

"You  see  before  you  a  son  of  the  people.  Unfortunate, 
sir — poor,  but  proud  !     He  must  be  provided  for." 

Every  attempt  at  evasion  was  pooh-poohed ;  every  pretence 
of  conscientiousness  scourged  with  truculent  sarcasm  ;  every 
symptom  of  coming  denial  met  with  the  regretful  inquiry — 
''Must  I  then  play  Lucifer  among  your  constituents  ?"  He 
would  add  meditatively,  "  I  like\.o  play  Lucifer."  After  some 
minor  successes,  chance  had  led  him  to  train  his  batteries  on 
the  Honorable  Frederick  De  Lancey,  whose  conservative  dis- 
trict had  not  changed  its  vote  in  twenty  years.  Though  rarely 
opening  his  chiselled  lips  in  the  House,  this  legislator  when 
at  home  lived  in  some  state,  was  generally  mentioned  as  "  a 
man  of  distinguished  appearance,"  and  was  regarded  as  a  very 
great  personage  indeed.  He  devoted,  justifiably,  a  consider- 
able part  of  his  leisure  time  to  the  work  of  respecting  him- 
self; and  he  felt  that  the  world  was  indeed  going  to  the  bad 
when  he  heard  this  insufferable  fellow  make  a  mock  of  his 
provincial  glories,  and  threaten  the  sacrilege  of  turning  his 
constituents  (Ids  constituents  !)  against  him.  As  soon  as  he 
had  recovered  breath  and  power  of  motion,  he  beckoned  to 
the  nearest  messenger  and  handed  him  a  half-dollar.  "John," 
he  said,  "have  the  goodness  to  hear  as  my  substitute  what- 
ever this  person  may  wish  to  say;"  and  he  walked  placidly 
back  through  the  door  up  the  aisle  to  his  seat. 

The  negro,  fully  alive  to  the  humor  of  the  situation, 
straightened  himself  like  a  grenadier,  and  said  :  "  Well,  sah, 
please  proceed,  ef  you  please,"  in  a  condescending  tone,  which 
drew  sounds  of  merriment  from  the  gathering  spectators. 
Vamper  cast  one  venomous  look  at  him,  and  hurried  away 
pursued  by  their  suppressed  laughter  and  the  louder  "  Yah  • 


32 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


yah  !  yah  !"  of  the  sable  proxy.  The  latter  had  a  true  place- 
man's aversion  for  the  displacemen  and  their  leaders.  More- 
over, he  felt  jolly  over  his  easily  earned  half-dollar. 

Ishmael  did  not  disguise  to  himself  that  this  was  a  serious 
blow.  He  knew  that  the  story  would  spread,  and  lead  to  re- 
calcitrancy and  ridicule.  He  was  sorry  the  issue  had  been 
made  in  such  a  Gibraltar  of  a  district ;  but  he  felt  that  now 
or  never  was  the  time  to  prove  that  there  was  substance  in 
his  threats.  So,  collecting  what  money  he  could,  he  departed 
ostentatiously,  to  "  organize  the  working-men,"  that  is,  to  in- 
troduce communistic  doctrines  and  foment  discord  on  the 
Eastern  Shore. 

His  past  experience  as  a  "  carpet-bagger"  in  the  Southern 
States  misled  him.  All  his  successes  had  been  gained  through 
the  negroes  (where  they  were  in  a  majority),  and  so  he  now 
addressed  himself  mainly  to  that  race.  His  incisive  and  vivid, 
though  rather  infernal,  oratory,  was  in  startling  contrast  to 
the  voluminous  rhetoric  of  their  former  masters,  and  the 
clumsy  imitations  of  their  own  local  leaders :  so  his  fame 
widened  rapidly.  Portentous  crowds  flocked  to  hear  him, 
work  was  neglected,  and  a  sense  of  ill-usage  and  antagonism 
spread  abroad.  Offers  were  not  wanting  to  seize  the  axe  and 
the  torch  when  they  should  receive  the  promised  summons 
to  join  the  great  uprising.  His  reckless  invective  became 
more  and  more  extravagant  as  he  found  that  nothing  was  too 
wild  for  his  ignorant  and  excited  hearers.  The  wrath  of  both 
races  was  brewing  a  storm. 

While  Roger  Armstrong  was  dallying  along  the  road,  an 
assemblage  of  negroes  in  front  of  the  village  hotel  were 
clamoring  for  another  speech  from  Vamper ;  and  a  lesser 
party  of  white  townspeople  and  young  farmers,  heated  by  the 
quarrels  of  the  last  two  or  three  hours,  had  elbowed  their 
way  into  the  throng  hooting  derisively.  No  sooner  had  the 
orator  appeared  on  the  balcony  than  a  squabble  arose  below, 
and  a  pistol  shot  was  fired,  perhaps  by  accident  or  at  random ; 
but  ft  sprinkled  him  with  broken  glass  from  a  window  at  his 


"LET  LOOSE   FOR   A  SEASON."  33 

side,  causing  a  precipitate  retreat.  As  he  listened,  seated 
within,  to  his  dupes,  now  fighting,  running,  groaning,  outside, 
he  reflected  that  he  had  been  a  fool,  and  would  like  very 
much  to  get  out  of  the  scrape.  Then  he  bolted  and  barri- 
caded the  door,  cocked  his  revolver,  and  sat  quietly  down  out 
of  line  with  the  window.  The  sj;ruggle  in  the  street  was 
quite  over  by  this  time,  the  negroes  having  speedily  scat- 
tered. For  the  moment,  pursuers  and  pursued  had  left  the 
field  of  battle.  All  was  silent  except  the  moans  of  two  or 
three  dark,  recumbent  figures,  which  could  not  conveniently 
leave  the  side  walk.  Then  a  voice  announced  significantly : 
"  The  Wildcatters,"  and  there  was  a  general  return  of  the 
whites. 

At  that  cry,  Ishmael  Vamper  leaned  sidewise,  and  looked 
cautiously  out.  Directly  toward  him,  entering  the  village  by 
a  side  street,  came  a  score  or  so  of  gaunt  horsemen,  two  by 
two,  with  shot  guns  on  their  shoulders,  and  their  faces 
shadowed  by  tattered  hats  of  felt  or  straw.  The  leading  file 
consisted  of  a  little  swarthy,  wiry  fellow,  with  a  bead-like 
gypsy  eye,  and  an  iron-sinewed,  round-shouldered,  bony  giant 
of  at  least  six  feet  three.  They  rode  deliberately,  like  men 
who  had  come  on  serious  business.  As  they  entered  the 
main  street,  they  pointed  out  the  wounded  negroes  to  one  an- 
other with  a  word  and  a  scowl,  and  exchanged  rough  greet- 
ings with  friends  in  the  crowd.  Then  three  or  four  of  the 
party,  as  though  by  preconcerted  arrangement,  kept  on  to 
the  rear  of  the  hotel,  while  the  main  body  dismounted  and 
advanced  toward  the  front  steps.  Vamper  breathed  hard 
and  set  his  teeth. 

Just  then  there  was  a  great  rushing  and  clattering  down  a 
side  street,  and  Roger  Armstrong  came  hurrying,  buggy  and 
all,  round  the  corner.  At  the  last  available  moment  his  horse 
had  condescended  to  go — with  the  full  impetus  of  a  stream 
bursting  its  dam.  The  utmost  strength  of  its  owner's  power- 
ful arms  barely  effected  a  halt  a  little  beyond  the  hotel  steps. 
Then,  with  no  apology  to  those  who  were  still  tumbling  back 
4 


34 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


across  the  roadway,  Roger  sprang  to  the  ground  and  gained 
the  front  door  of  the  menaced  building  in  a  series  of  well- 
weighted  bounds.  Here  he  faced  about,  red  with  effort  and 
dark  with  wrath,  in  an  attitude  which  could  not  be  misunder- 
stood. 

"  Zounds  and  death  !"  he  thundered,  breathlessly.  "  Men, 
men,  what  does  all  this  mean  ?" 

There  was  a  disconcerted  murmur.  They  w^ere  loth  to 
make  head  against  their  oracle  and  their  idol.  There  was 
not  a  man  present  but  had  been  the  recipient  of  his  neigh- 
borly kindness,  and  derived  a  good  share  of  his  rather  unre- 
liable education  from  "  General"  Armstrong's  "  public  day"' 
disquisitions  and  discussions  .  in  the  county  town !  They 
remembered,  too,  that  he  had  stood  -unflinchingly  by  his 
political  principles  when  those  principles  involved  the  danger 
of  imprisonment  or  worse. 

"  It  means,  sir,"  at  last  answered  the  small,  sharp-eyed  man 
who  led  the  party,  touching  his  hat  respectfully,  but  showing 
that  he  at  least  had  quite  recovered  from  his  first  dismay ; 
"  it  means  that  we  seen  there  was  a  viper  yere,  and  we  come 
down  to  stop  his  hissin'." 

"  Michael  Garr,"  demanded  Armstrong,  severely,  "  have 
you  no  better  brains  than  that  ?  Do  you  want  to  see  me  and 
mine  given  over  to  execution  and  confiscation  in  order  that 
you  may  take  vengeance  on  a  wretched  demagogue  ?  Do 
you  remember  the  retaliations  of  1863  ?" 

Some  of  the  party  were  evidently  much  struck  by  this  sug- 
gestion ;  but  Garr  answered  shrewdly — 

"Ah,  General,  them  days  is  gone  ;  ye're  mighty  safe  now." 

"And  you,  John  Simpson,"  exclaimed  Armstrong.  **  I 
thought  you  were  more  of  a  man.  Are  you  not  ashamed  to 
bring  a  party  of  twenty  to  kill  a  poor  devil  who  is  no  match 
for  one  side  of  you  ?" 

The  huge  man  shifted  his  feet  uneasily,  but  his  quicker- 
witted  comrade  interposed  with  the  remark :  "  I've  seen 
morc'n  that  after  a  fox,  an'  he  hadn't  done  nothin'  but  steal 
chickens  neither." 


LET   LOOSE  FOR  A  SEASON. 


35 


Roger  remembered  his  early  sports,  and  answered  hastily, 
*'  Be  civil,  Garr."  Then  he  added  gently,  to  conciliate : 
"  Foxes  are  foxes,  and  men  are  men." 

"And  devils  are  devils,"  retorted  Garr.  "  'Fore  God,  I  say 
it's  a  blessed  work  to  kill  'em." 

"  Look  yander,  Gineral,"  cried  Simpson,  thus  egged  on  and 
pointing  to  the  blood  on  the  pavement — "  that's  Ids  work. 
That  man's  wuss'n  a  devil.  He's  powerful  m.ean.  It's  a 
mussy  to  stamip  him  out — mi  ive're  bcim  to  do  ity 

"  Oh,  boys,  boys  !"  cried  Roger  Armstrong,  in  dire  distress, 
as  he  realized  the  white  heat  of  their  determination.  "Think 
what  you  are  doing.  Will  you  bring  disgrace  on  your  State  ? 
—  on  old  Accomac  ? — on  you  and  me,  and  all  of  us  ?  Come,  I 
have  not  often  asked  favors  at  your  hands,  grant  me  this.  Don't 
fear  that  I  shall  forget  it.  What,  are  there  none  of  you  v.ho 
ha\  e  ever  had  kindnesses  from  Roger  Armstrong  ?  He  is  get- 
ting to  be  an  old  man  now,  and  some  of  you  are  not  sowoung 
as  you  were  ;  is  there  nothing  in  our  long  lives  passed  side  by 
side  which  should  give  him  a  right  to  appeal  to  you  as  man 
appeals  to  man,  and  friend  to  friend  ?  See,  our  interests,  our 
hopes  are  bound  up  together.  Your  shame  is  my  shame,  your 
glory  my  glory,  your  sin  my  sin.  I  will  not  pass  into  the 
presence  of  my  God  with  the  thought  that  I  have  let  you  soil 
your  souls  with  this  atrocious  crime." 

A  hush  fell  for  a  moment  on  the  now  largely  augmented 
crowd;  then  turbulent  murmurs  began  again  ;  and  a  stranger's 
voice  called,  "  Haul  the  politician  out  of  there," 

"You  lie!"  roared  Roger,  from  his  vantage  post.  "Hand 
the  rahscal  up  here  who  calls  Roger  Armstrong  a  politician^ 
Where  is  he  ?" 

The  fellow  slunk  off  amid  jeers  ;  and  Simpson  expressed  the 
general  opinion  of  the  mob — 

"  Yes,  he  docs  lie,  Gineral.  You're  the  highest-toned  gen- 
tleman on  the  Eastern  Sho'.  I'll  vote  fo'  you,  sir  ;  an'  I'll 
fight  fo'  you  ;  but  I  can't  do  this  fo'  you.  We  all  come  to  kill 
that  Vamper ;  an',  'fore  God,  you  best  get  out  of  the  way." 


36  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"  Yes,  out  of  the  way  !  Out  of  the  way  !  No  time  for  talk  !" 
called  a  dozen  impatient  voices. 

Armstrong  answered  with  stern  composure,  but  in  a  voice 
so  loud  that  it  dominated  all  their  uproar — 

"  I  most  assuredly  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  You  shall 
not  enter  this  door  unless  you  pass  over  my  dead  body." 

Again  there  was  silence  for  a  moment ;  then  fiercer  cries — 

"  Let  him  die  if  he  wants  to.  Stop  talking,  and  clear  the 
way !" 

"  Well,  if  I  must,"  observed  Simpson,  bringing  his  ponderous 
right  foot  slowly  up  another  step. 

"Halt!"  commanded  Armstrong,  in  so  emphatic  a  voice 
that  Simpson  involuntarily  stopped  and  half  raised  his  hand  to 
his  hat. 

Before  that  pause  ended,  a  third  party  interposed,  a  tall, 
stately  man  with  a  broad  panama  hat,  silky,  brown  beard,  white 
skin,  atid  faultless  attire.  Sitting  in  a  front  room  of  the  hotel 
he  had  watched  with  some  interest  the  rout  of  the  negroes  ;  he 
had  even  laid  his  mint  julep  aside  to  nod  approval  when  he 
saw  the  lynchers  approach  ;  but  he  had  not  thought  of  taking 
part  in  the  drama  until  he  saw  that  a  gentleman  was  in  peril. 
Then  he  tossed  away  his  straw,  drained  his  glass,  flung  on  his 
hat,  and  strode  swiftly  down  to  the  rescue,  cocking  his  revolver 
as  he  came.  When  he  reached  the  side  of  Roger  Armstrong 
the  face  of  John  Simp'^on  was  directly  before  him,  rising  far 
above  the  rest  of  the  crowd.  With  the  single  exclamation, 
"  You  dog  !"  he  fired  full  at  that  face.  The  aim  though  quick 
was  deadly,  but  the  bullet  went  harmlessly  by  overhead.  Arm- 
strong had  dashed  up  the  hand  of  his  champion. 

"  No,"  said  he,  with  one  of  his  beaming  smiles,  "John  Simp- 
son and  I  have  been  friends  too  long  to  kill  one  another;" 
then  changing  his  tone  a-B  he  saw  signs  of  irresolution  in  the 
crowd,  he  called  out  with  a  prodigious  assumption  of  au- 
thority— 

"  In  the  name  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  I  command  you  to 
disperse  and  return  to  your  homes." 


LET  LOOSE  FOR   A  SEASON.' 


Michael  Garr  wheeled  about  and  began  elbowin 


ILS 


37 


way 


back  to  his  horse,  observing  astutely — 

"  I  reckon  it's  all  up,  boys ;  come  along." 

Simpson  stood  a  moment  as  if  in  a  daze ;  then  struck  the 
butt  of  his  gun  on  the  steps  with  a  great  clang,  and,  turning 
half  around,  declared  aloud — 

"  I  can't  hurt  the  Gineral,  boys  ;  an'  I'll  be  blanked  if  any 
one  else  shall,  either.  Not  as  I'm  afeard  o'  that  dandy's  pistol, 
nor " 

"Will  you  oblige  me,  sir,  by  stepping  into  the  hall?"  re- 
quested Mr.  Armstrong,  addressing  Captain  Hawksley,  his 
new  ally. 

The  latter  bowed  stiffly  and  retired  a  little  beyond  the 
doorway,  where  he  stood,  serene  but  vigilant,  revolving  in 
his  mind  whether  he  could  with  honor  avoid  calling  out  the 
man  who  had  taken  such  a  liberty  with  his  person.  He  did 
not  wish  for  a  meeting;  indeed  he  had  just  finished  a  tedious 
journey  by  rail  undertaken  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the 
offender  and  his  niece  ;  and  he  valued  her  approbation  above 
all  things.  But  there  was  a  certain  sense  of  duty  in  these 
matters  ;  and  it  had  always  been  the  captain's  way  to  treat 
his  honor  as  a  very  sensitive  plant.  This  was  sometimes  in- 
convenient, for  the  word  included  all  the  more  finely  spun 
ramifications  of  his  reputation  for  courage,  veracity,  propriety, 
and  fifty  other  things. 

Yet  he  might  very  well  have  rested  his  case  on  what  he 
had  been  and  done.  It  was  said  that  the  war  had  produced 
no  more  capable  or  daring  partizan  leader,  and  now  in  peace 
he  was  winning  wide  recognition  as  an  original  critic  of  cur- 
rent facts  and  public  men,  writing  from  a  perversely  peculiar 
standpoint  and  with  a  polished  bitterness  of  style  that  re- 
minded one  of  Randolph  of  Roanoke. 

Mr.  Armstrong  broke  this  reverie  by  advancing  radiantly 
with  outstretched  hand,  exclaiming  as  he  entered  the  hall, 
"  By  Zines,  I  never  found  so  much  difficulty  in  exerting  ni)^ 
authority,  sir.  One  of  m)^  best  speeches  would  have  been 
wasted  on  those  fellows.     You  came  just  in  time,  and  I  thank 


38 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


you  cordially,  sir.      I    hope   you   will   excuse  my  roughness, 
sir.     Necessity  was  urgent." 

Captain  Hawksley  weighed  this  apology  conscientiously 
before  accepting  it.  On  the  whole  he  thought  it  would  do, 
as  there  had  been  no  intention  to  affront.  Having  come  to 
this  wise  conclusion,  he  was  not  disposed  to  be  niggardly  in 
response — especially  as  the  other  was  beginning  to  look 
hurt  and  vexed. 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  the  captain  answered  ;  "  I  am  especially 
proud  to  have  been  of  service  to  you,  Mr.  Armstrong." 

He  was  about  to  add  more  when  an  unpleasant  voice 
added :  "  Second  that  motion."  Turning,  he  confronted 
Lshmael  Vamper. 

The  latter,  when  Armstrong  first  interposed  in  his  behalf, 
had  audibly  wondered,  "What's  that  old  party's  game?" 
The  appeal  for  mercy  had  drawn  from  him  the  admiring 
comment,  "  If  that  don't  fetch  'em,  it's  useless  for  me  to  try." 
When  he  heard  Hawksley  stride  past,  he  cried,  "  Don  Quixote 
No.  2  !"  with  a  ghastly  grin  into  his  looking-glass.  Then 
realizing  that  he  might  do  better  by  himself  than  to  sit  there 
whetting  his  wit  on  his  desperate  fortunes,  he  bowed  to  his 
grimacing  reflected  image  with — "Now  for  the  windmills! 
Let  us  warfare  a  little  !  Selah  !"  and  opening  the  door,  saun- 
tered jauntily  down  in  time  to  witness  \\\^  finale. 

Hawksley  stared  at  him  haughtily  on  hearing  his  volunteer 
"  second;"  and  announced,  "  I'll  have  you  remember,  if  you'll 
be  so  keind,  that  interruptions  are  distasteful." 

Vamper  would  have  liked  to  kill  him;  yet  drew  off  without 
even  a  sneer.  Ishmael's  cold-blooded  care  of  himself  often 
seemed  like  cowardice. 

Hawksley  curled  his  lip  in  mistaken  contempt,  and  Arm- 
strong looked  shame  and  pity.  The  two.  latter  had  met 
before,  and  a  seat  behind  the  refractory  black  horse  was 
offered  and  accepted  with  no  need  for  introduction  or  expla- 
nation. Then  lshmael  Vamper,  quite  unabashed,  came  to 
the  front  again,  saymg,  "  I  am  sure  you  would  like  the  com- 
pany of  a  man  of  saving  grace  ;  behold  the  candidate." 


"LET   LOOSE   FOR   A  SEASON."  39 

The  planter  answered  frigidly — "  There  are  only  two  seats, 
sir." 

Vamper  responded  with  mocking  insistance  :  "  Thanks  for 
your  consideration  ;  but  I've  no  false  pride.  I'll  sit  on  the 
floor  or  in  the  lap  of  some  good  Samaritan.  No  cutlets  out 
of  Vamper  for  these  cannibals !  What  ho,  let's  chariot  a 
little." 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  fellow  was  as  obnoxious  as 
he  well  could  be ;  his  very  presence  nauseated — yet  he  had 
asked  for  shelter.  Wildly,  preposterously  no  doubt,  and  with 
every  aggravation  of  impudence;  but  nevertheless  from  a 
real  danger,  and  one  which  there  was  no  cidier  probable 
means  of  avoiding.  Cypress  Beach  had  never  refused  this 
boon,  and  Mr.  Armstrong  felt  that  blood  would  be  on  his 
hands  and  his  soul  if  harm  ensued  from  refusing  it  now\  So 
he  groaned  in  spirit,  but  replied — 

"You  had  better  bring  out  a  chair  or  stool  for  a  seat." 

Before  starting,  he  insisted  on  seeing  the  wounded  negroes 
duly  cared  for.  In  this  work  Vamper  (followed  by  Captain 
Hawksley's  amused  contempt)  was  almost  equally  active.  He 
began  to  gain  favor  in  Mr.  Armstrong's  eyes. 

"I  will  say  one  thing  for  you,  Mr.  Vamper,"  remarked  the 
old  gentleman,  glad  to  find  something  to  commend,  "You  are 
thoughtful  for  your  injured  followers." 

Vamper  thought  there  was  a  sly  joke  under  the  old  man's 
kind  exterior;  and  answered,  willing  to  gain  credit  for  astute- 
ness— 

"  It  goes  without  saying,  a  la  Fra?zcais ,  that  I  shouldn't  have 
done  it  if  I  hadn't  thought  they  would  recover.  Three  dead 
niggers — no  help  nor  hurt  there ;  but  three  live  niggers  doc- 
tored— three  'strikers'  for  your  uncle — as  the  ungodly  say — 

Armstrong  could  not  believe  that  the  other  was  in  earnest. 
Taking  the  word  "striker"  in  its  more  ordinary  significance, 
he  asked — 

"  One  word,  sir,  what  is  the  objective  point  of  your  move- 


40  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

ment,  if  I  may  ask?     What  do  you  want  ^rikers  for  ?     A  war 
upon  capital  ?" 

"That's  the  ostensible  object,"  replied  Vamper ;  then  with 
a  confidential  leer :  "  But  what  in  Tophet  do  I  care  for  these 
dogs  of  laborers  ?     /  wajit  an  office  /" 

Captain  Hawksley  uttered  a  low,  musical  laug-h.  Mr.  Arm- 
strong asked  breathlessly — 

**  Is  tliat  your  only  object  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  answered  Vamper,  airily.  "  'Victors,'  you 
know!  'Spoils,'  you  know!  Office!  Office!  Let  us  offi- 
ciate ;"  and  he  swept  his  right  hand  out  and  back  with  a 
greedy,  money-raking  motion. 

The  elder  man,  holding  himself  in  readiness  for  attack,  burst 
out  with — 

"  Sir,  you  must  be  a  scoundrel." 

Vamper  laughed  aloud — 

"What,  have  you  just  discovered  that?  The  boarding- 
house  keepers  of  the  North  American  continent  found  it  out 
long  ago." 

Roger  Armstrong  seemed  about  to  fling  him  out  of  the 
buggy;  but  was  checked  by  Hawksley 's  deferential  touch, 
and  the  suggestion — 

"Pardon  me,  but  unhappily  the  thing  is  your  guest." 

"  So  he  is,  hang  him,"  admitted  Armstrong,  dismally.  Ex- 
cept an  occasional  meditative  "  zounds  and  death  !"  he  kept  a 
most  surprising  silence  for  the  next  mile  or  so.  Ishmael  made 
up  for  it  by  a  constant  flow  of  grotesque,  boastful  nonsense. 
Captain  Hawksley  still  watched  and  smiled  ;  resolving  that 
Jessica  should  not  long  be  annoyed  by  this  phenomenon. 

Suddenly  a  turn  of  the  road  revealed  a  crowd  of  negroes 
around  a  meeting-house.  They  consisted  mainly  of  the  rem- 
nants of  the  body  just  dispersed  in  Nodaway;  and  were  now 
awaiting  reinforcements  preparatory  to — they  knew  not  what. 
The  appearance  of  their  leader,  and  as  they  supposed,  his 
captors  gave  them  an  imm.ediate  object.  They  pressed  threat- 
eningly into  the  carriage-way  and  around  the  vehicle  under 
the  direction  of  a  squat,  ruffianly  fellow,  in  whom  Mr.  Arm- 


"LET   LOOSE   FOR  A  SEASON."  4! 

strong  was  surprised  to  recognize  Mammy  Charlotte's  lonf^- 
absent  son,  John. 

"  I  think,"  suggested  Hawkslcy,  cocking  his  revolver  and 
looking  calmly  at  Vamper,  "that  it  would  be  as  well  to  ex- 
plain matters,  if  you  will  be  so  keind." 

The  Captain  clung  tenaciously  and  patriotically  to  the 
Hebridcan  pronunciation  common  in  most  parts  of  Virginia. 
He  would  not  have  discai'ded  a  superfluous  vowel  on  any  ac- 
count. 

Vamper  sneered  inwardly,  but  lost  no  time  in  beginning 
the  required  statement.  This  time  he  chose  a  more  grandiose 
style  of  oratory  than  usual,  his  object  not  being  to  excite  but 
to  console,  allay,  encourage,  and  please. 

"  Fellow  citizens,"  said  he,  rising,  "  let  me  congratulate  you 
on  the  successful  issue  of  our  grand  rally  for  the  great  cause 
of  man.  Victory  does  not  consist  alone  in  the  mere  resistless 
onslaught  of  wronged  numbers  ;  though  that  too  will  come 
if  the  oppressors  listen  not  to  the  warning  which  is  borne  on 
every  breeze,  if  they  heed  not  the  blazon  stamped  on  the 
broad  earth  and  the  eternal  heavens.  But  the  noblest  victory 
is  the  victory  over  the  hearts  and  minds  of  noble  men,  and 
tJiat  we  have  won  to-day.  I  am  going  hence,  not  as  a  pris- 
oner, but  as  the  invited  guest  of  the  foremost  man  of  all  this 
region,  a  generous  enemy,  of  whose  final  conversion  to  the 
cause  of  right  his  present  manly  action  affords  a  glorious 
forecast.     I  must  ask  you  to  open  the  way  for  us." 

Roger  Armstrong  had  listened  in  bewilderment.  How  a 
man  could  throw  so  much  sincerity  into  his  words  when  there 
was  none  in  his  heart  quite  passed  comprehension.  He  be- 
gan to  wonder  whether  the  speaker  were  not  after  all  a  mis- 
led enthusiast,  who  took  a  morbid  pleasure  in  maligning  him- 
self. But  the  final  suggestion  brought  the  old  gentleman  to 
his  feet. 

"  Now  /  want  a  word  with  you,"  he  announced.  "  Mr. 
Vamper's  prognostication  is  without  a  shadow  of  foundation. 
I  have  told  you  before,  and  I  tell  you  now,  that  you  have  too 
many  privileges  already.     As  a  good  citizen,  I  acquiesce  in 


42 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


accomplished  facts,  however  deplorable,  but  I  will  not  advo- 
cate further  unwise  concessions.  I  talk  to  you  frankly,  for 
that  is  the  truest  kindness.  Some  of  you  were  raised  on  my 
place,  and  many  have  been  in  my  employ ;  have  I  ever  treated 
you  unjustly  or  unkindly?"  There  were  many  negative 
answers  from  different  parts  of  the  crowd.  "Then,"  he  con- 
tinued, *'  I  know  you  will  take  it  to  heart  when  I  warn  you 
not  to  expect  too  much.  A  scientist,  a  great  man  at  the 
North,  has  recently  discovered  that  the  negro's  head  does  not 
possess  a  certain  suture,  as  it  is  called,  which  allows  the  white 
man's  skull  to  expand,  and  his  brain  to  grovv^.  Hence,  try  as 
hard  as  you  may,  your  brains  cannot  develop  beyond  a  cer- 
tain extent.  It  is  the  will  of  God,  for  His  own  wise  pur- 
poses. You  can  never  be  the  equals  of  white  men  in  any 
respect,  and  the  effort  to  reverse  the  Divine  decrees  will  only 
bring  a  curse  and  destruction  upon  you.  Therefore,  you  who 
are  well  disposed,  go  quietly  back  to  your  homiCS,  and  count 
upon  me  as  your  friend  whenever  you  are  in  distress. 

"  To  the  few  who  seek  in  turmoil  and  confusion  an  oppor- 
tunity for  robbery  and  all  baseness" — here  his  eye  rested 
sternly  on  the  face  of  John,  who  stared  back  at  him  in  stolid 
defiance — "  to  that  evil  few  I  would  give  one  reminder — the 
whipping-post  has  been  re-established.  It  is  well  not  to  for- 
get."    He  sat  down  ;  bowed  authoritatively  ;  and  drove  on.    ■ 

Ishmael  Vamper  looked  at  him  derisively,  and  then  back 
for  the  benefit  of  the  crowd.  But  he  was  surprised  to  find  a 
very  unsympathetic  response  in  their  faces.  The  shadow  of 
old  mastership  was  too  much  for  him.  His  next  glance  at 
Armstrong  was  one  of  admiration  and  longing. 

"That  'suture'  business  was  a  trump,"  said  he;  "  but  how 
did  you  dare  play  it  ?  Can  you  really  make  the  idiots  swal- 
low anything  f 

"  *  Swallow  !  swallow  !'  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Armstrong,  in  rising 
wrath,  "  why,  man,  its  God's  truth.     Zounds  and  death  !" 

Vamper  had  no  faith  in  his  rescuer's  sincerity  (or  in  anything 
else) ;  but  was  beginning  to  hate  him  with  a  deadly  hatred  for 
his  pretense  of  moral  superiority. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


THERE    WOKKETH    A   SPELL. 


Vamper  possessed  a  natural  aptitude  for  that  obscure  and 
uncanny  art  which  we  term  mesmerism  or  animal  magnetism 
a  very  real  and  dangerous  endowment,  howexer  discredited  in 
some  quarters  by  the  fraud  and  legerdemain  which  imitate  it. 
The  worst  human  passions  had  instigated  him  to  develop  this 
power;  and  they  had  been  reinforced  by  the  inhuman  desire 
to  drag  down  all  things  that  men  called  high  or  pure  and  make 
a  mock  of  them  ;  until  a  superstitious  person  might  well  be 
excused  for  finding  in  him  the  evil  eye  of  olden  time  witch- 
craft. 

Jessica  would  have  been  in  some  peril  from  this  inHuence 
at  any  time,  by  reason  of  the  extreme  responsiveness  which 
underlay  her  Hebe-like  charms,  her  social  aptitude  and  girlish 
enjoyment.  There  are  subtle  weaknesses  of  nerve  texture  and 
current  which  may  work  a  dreadful  treason  to  other  outlines 
than  those  of  Egeria.  And  now  she  was  in  a  peculiar!}-  re- 
ceptive mood.  The  nerxousness  caused  by  last  night's  want 
of  rest  had  been  aggra\  ated  by  the  anxiety  consequent  upon  her 
uncle's  departure,  and  the  rumors  which  reached  her  from  the 
village  ;  while  the  unobtrusive  attentions  of  Robert  Chaunce}', 
and  Prince's  efforts  at  diversion,  had  rather  added  to  the  strain 
by  reminding  her  of  the  duty  of  self-control. 

She  welcomed  her  uncle  with  a  kiss  that  con\-eyed  ail  the 
enthusiasm  of  thankful  relief;  then  turned  with  a  happy  smile 
to  Captain  Hawksley  ;  and,  lastly,  greeted  pleasantly  (as  intro- 


44 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


duced)  her  new  acquaintance,  Mr.  Vamper ;  though  marvel- 
ling  at  his  presence  not  a  Httle.  He  took  her  hand  and  held  it 
longer  and  more  tightly  than  custom  quite  warranted,  flushing 
her  cheek  and  flooding  her  heart  with  an  unknown  feeling  that 
was  much  more  than  dismay.  As  the  others  passed  on,  she 
rallied  her  will  desperately  and  looked  up  with  an  effort  at 
self-defense  and  repulsion  ;  but  her  eyes  fell  again  at  once,  and 
she  shook,  breathing  heavily.  The  wild  rabbit  shocked  into 
bewildered  paralysis  by  the  sudden  cry  of  many  hounds — 
though,  oh,  so  willing  to  fly  ! — is  not  more  helpless. 

"  I  think  we  shall  be  very  good  friends,"  he  said  significantly. 

"  I  hope  so,"  she  replied,  dreamily,  still  shuddering. 

He  held  her  hand  a  moment  longer,  to  be  sure  there  was  no 
resistance;  then  quietly  released  it,  and  entered  the  house  after 
her. 

While  her  uncle  was  introducing  him  to  Mr.  Chauncey,  she 
slipped  off  to  her  room;  dropped  breathlessly  into  a  chair; 
and  bared  her  full  fine  arm  to  the  elbow,  looking  attentively 
along  it  from  the  ring.  Then  she  let  it  fall,  and  turned  her 
eyes  on  the  sunlight  which  flecked  the  floor  ;  thinking  in  a 
dazed  way.  Had  she  told  the  truth  in  saying  she  hoped  they 
would  be  friends?  What  was  the  attitude  of  her  soul,  her- 
self, toward  him  ?  She  had  believed  all  her  life  that  no  man 
whom  she  could  ever  meet  as  an  equal  would  cross  the  magic 
circle  of  a  pure  woman's  rebuke  ;  but  she  saw  already  that  it 
was  less  than  a  cobweb  barrier  to  him.  Her  traditions  were 
all  cast  to  the  winds,  and  her  soul  was  trembling  within  her. 
The  fascination  of  fear  was  not  all :  she  recognized  the  weirder 
fascination  of  unlikeness — unlikeness  not  merely  to  the  other 
men  whom  she  had  met,  but  (as  it  seemed)  to  the  essential 
spirit  of  humanity  itself 

The  physical  effort  of  her  hurried  toilet  scattered  these 
shadows  and  half  persuaded  her  that  she  could  laugh  at 
them.  No  doubt,  however,  there  was  a  dash  of  uneasiness 
in  her  defiant  singing,  as  she  went  down  the  hall  ;  for  she 
was  not  wont  to  be  so  demonstrative. 


THERE   VVORKETH   A   SPELL. 


45 


Her  uncle's  late  success  made  him  even  more  fluent  than 
visual  at  the  table,  so  they  had  over  again  the  well-worn  story 
of  the  Pennsylvanian  who  called  a  handsome  horse  "  ugly" 
when  he  meant  that  it  was  vicious,  and  the  one  about  the 
Quaker  who  preached  negro  equality  to  a  pursuing  slave- 
owner, yet  refused  to  purchase  the  runaway's  freedom  by 
accepting  him  for  a  son-in-law.  These  and  many  more  were 
strung  on  a  thread  of  moralizing  which  set  all  human  experi- 
ence and  political  philosophy  at  defiance.  Yet  he  was  so 
sure  of  being  right  in  his  genial  wrong-headedness  that  the 
hearer  often  began  to  doubt  whether  the  solid  foundations  of 
the  universe  were  solid  after  all. 

The  meal  ended,  Hawksley  was  carried  off  to  inspect  the 
farms  and  stock.  Chauncey,  faintly  smiling,  as  one  who  sees 
without  grief  a  remembered  weariness  pass  to  a  rival's 
shoulders,  turned  with  dissembled  reluctance  to  keep  an 
appointment  which  had  been  pressed  upon  him  by  the  po- 
litely assiduous  little  Prince.  Vamper  declined  both  parties 
almost  curtly.  Before  Jessica  could  frame  a  plan  for  escape, 
he  had  laid  claim  to  her  services  as  entertainer ;  and  the 
others  had  departed,  vexed  indeed  to  leave  her  in  such  un- 
worthy company,  but  with  no  serious  misgiving. 

The  grirn  cloud  had  been  lifted  from  Jessica's  mind  in  the 
normal  life  of  the  last  hour  or  so  ;  but  now  as  she  sat  in  the 
curtain-dimmed  parlor,  with  its  quaint  furniture  and  quainter 
faded  portraits,  there  came  upon  her,  like  a  warning  from  an- 
other world,  a  vehement  impulse  to  flee.  When  the  voices 
of  her  friends  had  died  utterly  away  outside  in  the  deathlike 
hush  of  the  country,  this  instinct  overpowered  even  her  keen 
sense  of  propriety,  and  she  half  rose.  As  she  did  so,  she  felt 
the  keen  eyes  of  Vamper  mocking  her  perturbation.  Her 
over-dread  of  ridicule  checked  her  for  a  moment.  Before  it 
passed,  the  desire  to  go  seemed  to  fade  away. 

Turning  to  the  picture  album  (what  safer  in  its  conven- 
tionalism) she  fluttered,  trying  to  keep  her  usual  tone — 

"Ah,  Mr.  Vamper,  I  am  going  to  show  you  some  pretty 
girls.     You  mustn't  dare  to  contradict  me  " 


4.6  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"  I  shouldn't,"  he  responded  dryly.  "  Wheresoever  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  are  gathered  together,  we  know  who 
must  obey.     Bring  on  the  girls." 

She  stepped  to  the  table  not  over  pleased  (fdr  the  volume 
was  heavy  and  his  tone  both  dominant  and  nonchalant),  yet 
in  truth  not  daring  to  refuse.  Her  tremor  as  she  reached  for- 
ward caused  The  Lady's  Ring  to  strike  against  a  grotesquely 
wrought  silver  bell,  with  a  keen  menacing  note  like  the  cry 
of  a  soul  in  pain.     She  started  back  echoing  it. 

Vamper  stepped  beside  her,  asking — 

"  Ha ;  a  mouse  or  a  goblin  ?" 

"  It — startled  me,"  she  gasped.  "  It  does  not  sound  so— to 
everything.     It — came   from    the.  North — Salem — long   ago. 

They  tell "  and  she  looked  at  him,  like  one  battling,  with 

furtive  query  and  fright. 

"Ah,  a  wizard-finder's  toy,"  h^e  answered,  ringing  it  fantasti- 
cally; "order  up  the  witches." 

Smiling  Susan  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  Did  you  ring  fo'  me.  Miss  Jessie  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Not  any,"  Vamper  answered  for  her ;  but  the  negress  lin- 
gered. Did  she  see  anything  in  her  young  mistress's  face 
which  urged  her  not  to  go  away  ?  A  hesitating  expression 
troubled  the  dense  sunshine  of  her  countenance  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  withdrew  it,  still  grinning,  and  closed  the  door. 

Jessica,  seating  herself  submissively  beside  Vamper,  pointed 
out  and  named  one  portrait  after  another  ;  while  he,  delighting 
in  cat-and-mouse  tactics,  encouraged  her  growing  sense  of 
something  like  security  by  a  droll  running  cornm.entary,  that 
made  hidden  faults  and  foibles  start  into  mnaturally  vivid  re- 
lief. More  than  once  it  cheated  h:ir  into  h^^r  usual  mellow 
laugh. 

Her  voice  had  almost  its  old  clearness  as  she  pointed  to  aa 
exceptionally  beautiful  and  intelligent  face,  asking — 

"Do  you  find  anything  unlovely  there?'' 

Vamper's  lip  twitched  with  expectant  amusement,  as  he  an- 
swered— 


"THERE  WORKETH  A  SPELL."  4/ 

"  She  is  pretty  ;  but  not  so  sweet  as — Jessica." 

The  young  lady  could  not  but  remember  that  this  was  the 
very  bit  of  presumptinn  which  she  had  so  pointedly  forestalled 
only  yesterday  when  threatened  by  her  intimate  friend,  Mr. 
Chauncey.  She  had  always  been  almost  excessively  particu- 
lar with  regard  to  these  matters  of  etiquette  and  minor  cere- 
monial. So  she  straightened  herself,  as  in  duty  bound,  but 
with  a  dismayed  consciousness  of  the  odds  against  her. 

"  I  never  allow,"  she  began ;  but  she  could  get  no  further. 
Mis  eyes  made  her  droop  and  shrink  like  a  wilted  plant,  and 
the  words  turned  to  mere  quiverings  of  the  lips. 

"Of  course  not,  they  never  do,"  he  replied.  "But  all  the 
same,  Jessica,  I  think  you  won't  prude  with  me,  Jessica.  My 
Euphrosyne — 'goddess  fair  ?.nd  free  f — 'buxom,  blithe  and 
debonair !' — as  a  certain  blind  party  has  it." 

While  he  spoke  his  right  hand  closed  on  hers,  and  his  left, 
emphasizing  the  words,  stroked  lightly  up  over  and  beyond 
the  soft,  fine  wrist  that  her  flowing  sleeve  uncovered.  Her 
cheeks,  which  had  paled,  flushed  again  painfully  at  this;  but 
there  was  no  other  motion  and  no  sound.  He  paused,  in  keen- 
eyed  enjoyment  of  her  distress  ;  then  saying,  "  '  Sweet,'  eh  ? — 
let  us  test,"  bent  his  face  over  till  his  lips  approached  her  own. 

At  that  crisis,  a  quick  patter  of  hoofs  came  up  the  carriage- 
way ;  there  was  a  sudden  grind  of  turning  wheels  on  the  gravel, 
and  a  deep  voice  announced — 

"  I  should  have  struck  him  a  most  awfjl  blow." 

Mr.  Armstrong  was  explaining  what  would  have  happened 
to  Simpson  the  forester,  if  the  latter  had  persisted.  His  arrival 
sent  Vamper  back  out  of  line  with  the  windows,  cursing  half 
audibly. 

It  brought  still  further  relief  to  Jessica.  Her  uncle  had  a 
way  of  jotting  down  his  farming  statistics  on  odd  fragments 
of  paper,  and  then  shedding  them  about  over  the  house  like 
snowflakes.  This  time  he  fancied  that  one  of  the  flakes  had 
drifted  into  her  room  ;  and  requested  her  to  see  whether  it 
could  be  found.     She  rose,  bowing  acquiescence  with  rather  a 


48  '  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

dazed  air,  and  passed  out.  The  last  words  that  reached  her 
were  (in  his  most  Olympian  tones),  "  Slavery,  sir,  is  as  neces- 
sary to  a  gentleman  as  rain  is  to  corn."  She  had  heard  this 
sonorous  exordium  often  before  ;  but  now  it  had  a  personal  ap- 
plication which  made  her  lean  against  the  wall  and  fight  for 
breath. 

Reaching  her  room,  she  turned  the  key  and  fell  over  upon 
the  bed,  where  she  lay  for  a  long  time  without  moving.  Her 
mind  worked  as  though  in  a  dense  fog  and  under  a  brain- 
crusbjng  weight.  She  was  conscious  of  a  desolate  sense  of 
having  lost  the  defensive  power  of  womanhood.  She  knew 
that  she  was  absolutely  at  Vamper's  mercy — or  whatever  attri- 
bute might  be  supposed  to  take  its  place — and  that  he  had  de- 
prived her  not  only  of  the  power  to  reveal  her  danger  and  im- 
plore aid,  but  even  of  any  clearly  defined  wish  to  do  either. 
His  mastery  seemed  so  inevitable,  so  irreversibly  established 
that  (horrible  as  the  idea  would  ordinarily  have  seemed  to  her) 
she  could  not  even  be  sure  whether  it  were  right  or  wrong. 
Of  one  thing  alone  she  could  be  certain ;  her  heart  was  so  far 
from  feeling  any  affection  for  her  tyrant,  that  it  would  have 
turned  to  God  in  thankfulness  at  the  news  of  his  death.  Noth- 
ing remained  but  to  keep  up  the  artificialities  of  life,  and  drift, 
dumbly  moaning. 

She  was  still  lying  thus  when  a  servant  rapped  to  announce 
**  Mar^e  Roger  make  his  complimumps,  an'  would  be  much 
'bleege'  fo'  dat  slip  o'  paper ;  an'  supper  moughty  near  ready." 

Luckily,  the  memorandum  was  near  at  hand.  Jessica  thrust 
it  out,  and  began  her  toilet.  When  she  descended  all  the  men 
thought  that  her  apparel  and  coiffure  had  never  showed  to 
better  advantage.  But  both  Captain  Hawksley  and  Robert 
Chauncey  were  conscious  of  an  inexplicable  something  in  her 
manner  which  filled  them  with  disquiet.  *  Even  when  bridling 
with  her  little  bird-like  motions,  it  was  evident  that  she  had 
no  longer  the  bird's  blithe  certainty  of  wing.  The  lovers  were 
far  enough  from  suspecting  the  truth,  but  each  resolved  to 
bring  his  tantalizing  courtship  to  a  climax  before  another  day 
fiad  passed,  and  win  some  definite  answer  for  good  or  ill. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


RIDE.    BOLDLY    RIDE. 


Roger  Armstrong  had  not  the  least  suspicion  of  the  dire 
evil  that  menaced  his  roof,  and  he  did  not  find  it  easy  to  ask 
anv  one  to  leave  that  shelter.  But  he  had  received  warnings 
which  compelled  some  action  for  Vamper's  own  sake.  The 
animosity  of  the  more  dangerous  citizens  was  still  unappeased, 
and  although  the  agitator  was  safe  at  Cypress  Beach,  who 
could  guarantee  his  life  in  any  chance  stroll  through  the  neigh- 
boring woods  or  along  an  unfrequented  road  ? 

With  this  thought  in  his  mind,  Roger  Armstrong  the  next 
morning  invited  Vamper  to  ride  with  him.  This  would  have 
been  an  unwelcome  suggestion  at  any  time,  but  Ishmael  found 
it  especially  irksome  now  that  he  had  been  so  long  practically 
excluded  from  Jessica's  company — indeed  ever  since  the  return 
of  her  Uncle  and  Hawksley  the  day  before.  So  he  impu- 
dently feigned  lassitude,  and  answered  in  the  slang  of  the  day, 
"  Oh,  give  us  a  rest." 

The  host  bit  his  lip  :  "  I  have  important  business  with  you, 
sir,"  said  he. 

Vamper,  thus  enforced,  rose  with  a  quizzical  look  of  dis- 
tress, saying,  *'As  a  sheep  before  the  shearers." 

After  they  had  driven  a  little  way  Mr.  Armstrong  turned 
and  said — 

"  Mr.  Vamper,  you  are  in  danger." 

"  Well-l,  I  migJit  be  in  a  bumble-bee's  nest,"  was  the  philo- 
sophical reply. 

"The  people  are  excited  against   you,"   urged   the  other, 

5  49 


so 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


anxiously.  "  The  boat  for  Baltimore  leaves  our  wharf  at 
noon.  I  must  advise  you  to  take  it — on  your  own  account, 
sir." 

"  Oh,  doubtless,"  replied  Vamper,  with  half-veiled  irony  ; 
"  but  don't  solicitude  overmuch.  I  have  left  several  places 
unanimously  and  in  toto.     Let  us  procrastinate." 

"  Confound  him  !"  ejaculated  Armstrong,  inwardly  ;  "  How 
am  I  ever  to  get  rid  of  the  rahscal  ?  And  he  certainly  will  be 
put  to  death."  Then  he  fell  to  wondering,  as  others  had 
wondered,  whether  all  this  distortion  of  the  English  language 
and  human  nature  grew  out  of  something  which  might  lessen 
responsibility.  At  last  he  answered  resignedly,  "  If  you  get 
into  trouble  remember  you  had  full  monition." 

When  they  returned,  Jessica  was  away,  and  Vamper  learned 
that  she  had  made  a  second  engagement  for  the  afternoon- 
However,  there  were  but  a  given  number  of  hours  of  day,  so 
he  braced  his  patience  to  carry  him  through  them  in  the 
character  of  a  sardonic  loiterer  and  general  tormentor.  Long 
before  sundown  every  small  African  about  the  premises  had 
come  to  regard  him  with  a  peculiar  terror,  and  Prince's  lordly 
indignation  had  more  than  once  almost  choked  him,  though 
the  boy  returned  resolutely  again  and  again  to  the  task  of 
entertaining  this  intolerable  guest. 

Almost  immediately  after  Vamper  had  been  carried  away 
as  related,  Jessica  had  declared  vivaciously  that  she  must 
make  a  shopping-raid  on  the  main  street  of  Nodaway.  This 
was  partly  the  result  of  a  strong  impulse  \q>  get  as  far  from 
him  as  possible ;  partly  of  a  feverish,  half-recognized  yearn- 
ing to  make  the  most  of  life's  sunshine,  before  a  horror  settled 
upon  it. 

Of  course  there  were  two  volunteers  on  the  instant.  She 
looked  at  them  with  a  comical  affectation  of  dismay. 

"  What  both !"  she  cried ;  then,  clapping  her  hands,  "  I 
have  it.  You  shall  draw  lots,  and  the  loser  shall  be  my 
escort  this  evening  to  the  old  church  at  Nyington  Roads.  I 
have  been  longing  and  longing  to  see  it  again." 


"RIDE,   BOLDLY    RIDE."  5  I 

Captain  Hawksley  felt  that  this  appeal  to  chance  was  hardly 
decorous;  and  he  liked  it  even  less  when  the  result  went 
against  him.  However,  he  had  the  grace  to  show  no  more 
than  a  playful  chagrin.  After  the  others  departed,  he 
sauntered  down  to  the  cove  where  Prince  was  fishing.  The 
two  were  fast  friends  already ;  for  the  boy  rejoiced  in  this 
new  mine  of  stirring  anecdotes  ;  and  the  duelli.st  soldier  did 
not  easily  weary  of  narrating  them  to  one  who  showed  so 
many  of  his  own  qualities  in  embryo. 

Several  of  these  tales  had  already  been  repeated  as  they 
lounged  in  their  boat,  moored  just  within  the  edge  of  the 
cypress  shade,  when  Prince  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was  his  turn 
to  say  something  startling. 

"Captain,"  he  announced,  "I  am  going  to  shoot  a  man  to- 
night." 

"The  deuce  you  are!"  opening  his  eyes  at  this  practical 
application  of  his  doctrines,  "and  whom  may  it  be?  Don't 
pick  any  quarrel,  my  boy." 

"  Oh,  there  ain't  any  quarrel.     It's  only  a  chicken-'«hief." 

"Ah  !  I  see — you  mean  the  fellow  that  broke  into  the  hen- 
house last  night." 

This,  by  the  way,  was  Vamper's  Heutenant,  John,  who  had 
taken  to  feeding  at  once  his  spite  and  his  constitution  at  Mr. 
Armstrong's  expense. 

"  You're  mighty  right,  Captain,"  answered  Prince. 

"Then  I  advise  you  not  to  lose  any  sleep  on  his  account. 
Thieves  don't  visit  the  same  place  two  nights  in  succession. '> 

"  You  don't  know  our  thieves,  Captain,"  persisted  Prince 
with  a  wise  air. 

The  tolerably  experienced  Hawksley  began  laughing  gently 
to  himself,  then  stopped  suddenly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Prince,"  he  said  ;  "  you're  a  capital  lit- 
tle gentleman,  and  have  my  sincere  regyards.  But,  all  the 
same,  you  had  better  sleep  indoors  to-night,  and  save  your 
powder  for  the  squirrels." 

Prince's  brow  cleared ;  but  he  did  not  promise. 


52  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

Meanwhile  Jessica  and  Chauncey  were  cantering  on  briskly 
down  the  gently  undulating  road.  There  was  not  much  con- 
nected conversation  at  first,  for  he  could  spare  very  little  at- 
tention from  the  arduous  duty  of  managing  his  horse  and 
keeping  reputably  in  his  saddle.  Jessica  was  not  usually  in- 
considerate in  her  treatment  of  escorts  ;  but  this  time,  half  in 
abnormal  superficial  gaiety,  half  in  a  blind  and  most  unjust 
yearning  to  punish  somebody,  she  certainly  made  his  hard 
lot  very  much  harder. 

Nevertheless  they  entered  the  village  decently.  She  pointed 
out  to  him  the  little  court-house,  with  a  queer  grouping  of 
agricultural  machines  in  front  and  a  rude  wooden  fence  around 
all ;  the  bazaar-like  row  of  small  shops  ;  the  plethoric  brick 
tavern,  with  its  sickly  "  temperance"  competitor ;  the  bank ; 
the  sparsely  tenanted,  unguarded  jail ;  and  the  streets  lined 
with  incongruous  dwelling-houses,  generally  crowded  down 
to  the  pavement  in  a  city-emulating  fashion  which  robbed  the 
place  of  a  good  part  of  its  shady  rural  beauty.  While  she 
made  her  purchases,  he  amused  himself  by  watching  the 
long  shabbily-clad  countrymen  of  the  poorer  class  slauching 
about  the  corners  and  doorways,  the  few  weightily-stepping 
clear-voiced  farmer  magnates  in  their  faded,  careless  apparel ; 
the  negro  gossippers  to  whom  the  recent  disturbance  and 
bloodshed  had  already  become  a  godsend,  in  the  way  of  anec- 
dote and  reminiscence,  rather  than  a  portent  and  a  thing  of 
dread.  He  was  surprised  to  see  how  many  vehicles  contain- 
ing articles  of  some  value  were  standing  unwatched  about 
the  village. 

Then  his  mind  passed  to  certain  things  which  he  wished  to 
say.  How  should  he  begin  ?  The  choice  of  language  ought 
to  have  been  easy,  for  he  had  tested  almost  every  conceivable 
formula  of  that  sort  in  his  sentimental  episodes.  But  this 
morning  he  was  not  aided  by  that  thorough  sympathy  of  the 
audience  which  draws  forth  an  orator's  happiest  efforts.  If 
success  were  coming,  somehow  he  did  notTeel  it  But  what 
was  to    be  effected    by  waiting?     Hawksley — that    mispro- 


"RIDE,   BOLDLY    RIDE."  53 

noLincing  grindstone-hearted  guerrilla — was  more  likely  to 
gain  ground  with  the  lapse  of  time  than  to  lose  it.  The 
man's  hard  daring,  his  record  of  physical  and  mental  prowess, 
his  tenacious  adherence  to  what  most  people  deemed  hopeless, 
his  perfect  mastery  of  those  out-door  accomplishments  in 
which  Jessica  herself  excelled,  gave  him  obvious  advantages 
in  the  race.  Robert's  skill  with  the  pencil,  the  brush,  the 
springing  foot,  the  vibrant  cord,  and  the  accurately  modu- 
lated tone  would  go  for  nothing  in  comparison.  And  yet — 
and  yet — he  knew  that  he  had  not  a  ridiculous  trait.  It  was 
ver}'  bitter. 

While  returning,  they  halted  for  a  moment  to  breathe  their 
horses  in  the  shade  of  a  wide-spreading  oak  that  grew  on  a 
little  knoll.  The  delicate  fragrance  of  wild  grape  blossoms 
came  from  a  thicket  near  by.  A  mocking-bird  dropped 
lightly  on  a  branch  overhead,  and  rioted  in  a  wild  and  vary- 
ing melody.  When  he  ceased  and  flew  away,  one  or  two 
cat-birds  took  up  a  less  mellow  and  versatile,  but  still  musical 
song.  Flowers  bloomed  all  along  the  roadside ;  and  the 
whole  landscape  seemed  to  rejoice  in  its  bath  of  sunlight. 

Robert  Chauncey  had  just  devised  a  form  of  declaration  in 
keeping  with  this  environment,  and  promising  the  most  joyous 
results,  when  Jessica  unwittingly  sealed  his  lips  by  demanding 
speech. 

"  Mr.  Chauncey  used  to  be  an  entertaining  escort,"  said  she, 
half  tossing  her  head  archly.  "Ah,  well,  I  suppose  the  penin- 
sula air  is  bad  for  eloquence." 

"  Hardly,"  answered  Chauncey,  with  a  sudden  revulsion  to 
bitterness.  "  I  notice  the  Captain  finds  it  suits  his  '  gyarden' 
of  rhetoric,  '  regyardless'  of  English.     You  know " 

"  I  know,"  interrupted  Jessica,  with  decision  and  some  heat, 
"  that  Captain  Hawksley  is  thoroughly  a  man.  He  has  more 
than  a  drawing-room  record." 

Chauncey,  piqued,  responded  with  caustic  deliberation — 

"  No  ;  blood  stains  are  inconvenient  in  drawing-rooms." 

"  Some  of  our  city  young  men  are  in  no  danger  of  leaving 


54  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

blood  stains,"  she  replied,  curling  her  lip ;  "  no,  not  if  they 
were  to  bleed  to  death." 

She  turned  from  him  humming  scornfully. 

Chauncey  checked  the  first  answer  which  rose  from  his  heart. 
He  was  strangely  disappointed  in  her.  Had  she  shown  such 
rudeness  a  few  months  sooner,  his  course  would  have  been 
plain.  But  now  he  could  not  contemn  her  as  merely  vulgar, 
and  seek  a  less  faulty  charmer.  Besides,  the  good  taste  of  his 
own  remarks  about  his  absent  rival  would  not  bear  very  close 
examination. 

When  at  last  he  spoke,  it  was  simply  to  say — 

"All  of  which  means  that  you  think  I  have  no  spirit.  Per- 
haps you  may  see  cause  to  change  your  mind." 

His  unusual  tone  touched  her.  She  turned  quickly  towards 
him,  holding  out  her  hand  and  saying — 

"  Let  us  be  friends.  I  would  not  let  hini  criticise  you  in 
your  absence." 

The  truce  was  ratified,  and  they  rode  home  in  all  comrade- 
ship;  but  the  momentous  words  remained  unspoken.  He 
fancied  a  lurking  contempt  under  every  kindly  phrase.  And 
was  this  all  that  his  assiduous  attentions,  his  varied  talents,  his 
irreproachable  gentleness  had  called  forth  ?  The  spark  of  self- 
dissatisfaction  already  noted  was  fanned  into  a  blaze. 

Another  now — and  such  another  ! — required  credentials  of 
his  manhood.  He  resolved  again  and  again  that  they  should 
be  forthcoming. 

After  dinner  Captain  Hawksley  rode  with  Jessica  to  the  old 
church.  This  half-ruinous,  colonial  relic  stood  in  the  midst  of 
a  cluster  of  massive  oaks,  looking  out  rather  grimly  across  an 
estuary  and  the  broad  reach  of  Chesapeake  Bay.  Ivy  crawled 
over  it,  forming  a  thick  garment  in  many  places.  Here  and 
there  the  quaint  legend  and  sculpture  of  a  time-defaced  tomb- 
stone showed  above  the  sod.  No  human  dwelling  was  very 
near ;  no  human  voice  broke  the  silence.  The  birds,  the  grass, 
the  sky,  and  the  great  bay  had  not  changed  with  the  changing 
centuries.     They  were  again  with  that  cumbrous,  quaintly  ca- 


"RIDE,   BOLDLY    RIDE."  55 

parisoned,  dream-like  past,  which  one  cannot  think  on  without 
a  smile  of  affectionate  regret. 

She  sat  on  the  grassy  terrace  to  which  time  had  transformed 
the  well-worn  circular  carriage-way;  he,  standing  beside  her, 
leaned  against  a  large  tree  which  grew  out  of  its  deepest  hol- 
low. Notwithstanding  his  affectionate  hopes  of  a  domestic 
future — indeed  partly  because  of  them — Captiin  Hawksley 
always  treated  Jessica  with  marked  ceremony.  Perhaps  noth- 
ing else  so  greatly  aided  his  suit. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  continuing  his  thoughts  aloud,  "  here  your 
ancestors  talked,  and  walked,  and  breathed,  and  laughed,  and 
worshipped  in  those  kyindly  old  days  which  it  is  our  mission 
and  our  duty  to  bring  back  to  earth." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly — 

"  I  fear  that  can  never  be." 

"  It  is  worth  trying,"  he  replied ;  "  men  lived  then,  as  they 
were  intended  to  live,  in  good  will  with  those  around  them, 
and  in  patriarchal  rule  over  the  servants  born  on  their  land. 
No  desire  then  to  overturn  the  divinely  established  order  of 
things.  A  time  when  no  one  questioned  the  supremacy  of 
chivalric  honor!  A  time  when  the  truths  of  revelation  were 
unassailed  by  cavilling! 

"And  why  should  it  not  return  ?  Do  you  remember.  Miss 
Armstrong,  De  Tocqueville's  weighty  words,  '  Nothing  has  so 
great  a  fixity  of  purpose  as  an  aristocracy'  ?  That  is  true  even 
when  the  aristocracy,  acting  from  instinct,  does  not  clearly 
know  what  its  purpose  is.  The  South  has  not  cast  away  her 
ideals,  nor  have  her  sons  lost  their  manhood.  In  the  fullness 
of  time  her  ascendency  will  surely  come." 

"  In  good  truth,  I  wish  it  migJit','  she  answered. 

"  Meantime,  continued  he,  "  we  have  our  lands,  our  homes 
with  their  ancestral  associations,  our  white  adherents  who  ha\e 
not  }'et  learned  to  throw  off  their  traditional  reliance  on  gen- 
tlemen ;  our  negroes,  who  need  only  the  pressure  of  a  firm 
hand  (and  a  lavish  one)  to  subside  into  their  proper  station. 
We  can  brighten  our  neglected  gyardens,  restore  these  antique 


5  6  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

places  of  worship  to  their  former  solemn  beauty,  and  show  in 
the  Hves  of  ourselves  and  our  families  that  the  decorum,  the 
nobility,  and  the  frank,  pure  affection  of  old  days  have  not  van- 
ished from  earth.  We  can  revive  the  good  old  custom  of  love. 
Miss  Armstrong,  in  an  age  of  lawless  vagary  and  mercenary 
self-seeking," 

There  was  a  beseeching  tremor  in  his  last  words,  which 
showed  how  deeply  the  man's  soul  had  entered  into  the  dreams 
of  which  he  spoke.  They  appealed  almost  as  strongly  to  every 
enthusiasm  of  the  young  girl's  nature.  She  felt  that  the  very 
effort  to  attain  them  was  an  exaltation.  The  romantic  zealot 
beside  her  seemed  incomparably  heroic.  She  felt  a  real  long- 
ing to  share  his  aims,  his  hopes,  his  life. 

Yet  she  sat  silent,  with  a  cloud  on  her  brow  and  more  than 
a  cloud  on  l]er  brain  and  heart.  A  chill  horror  struck  through 
her  very  love.  She  could  not  clearly  distinguish  whence  it 
came.  Was  there  something  within  her  soul  like  a  malignant 
alien  personality  ? 

For  a  moment  her  lethargic  \v'A\  was  quickened  as  if  a  great 
cry  went  through  her,  and  she  struggled  as  one  struggles  with 
the  nightmare,  though  no  limb  stirred.  She  knew  perfectly 
how  very  near  she  was  to  all  the  delight  of  freedom.  One 
frank  sentence,  one  word,  one  hint,  and  the  unholy  bondage 
would  be  speedily  shattered — with  the  bodily  frame  of  him 
who  had  imposed  it.  Yet  there  was  little  hope  in  her  striving. 
The  very  effort  seemed  to  make  more  vivid  that  sensation  of  a 
jeering,  dominant  presence ;  and  suddenly  her  hand  made  an 
involuntary  motion  of  withdrawal  as  though  something  hurt  it. 

She  closed  her  eyes  for  a  minute,  then  rose  with  a  bewil- 
dered air,  and  hurried  from  a  conflict  which  was  turning  into 
torment  her  few  remaining  hours  of  self-deceitful  happiness. 
Yet  even  while  she  did  so,  that  happiness  seemed  to  her  un- 
speakably ghastly.     She  would  have  prayed  if  she  could. 

Captain  Hawksley  had  drawn  no  comfort  from  her  puzzling 
changes  of  expression ;  and  her  final  action  filled  him  with  a 
desolate  sense  of  rejection  embittered  by  unkindness.     Never- 


RIDE,   BOLDLY    RIDE. 


57 


theless,  he  assisted  her  to  mount,  and  rode  homeward  duti- 
fully, though  silently,  by  her  side. 

As  they  neared  Cypress  Beach,  she  brightened  rather  per- 
functorily, and  said — 

,"  We  make  quite  a  Doresque  picture — we  and  our  long 
shadows,  with  these  dead  trees  and  cypresses. 

"A  picture!"  said  he,  politely  rallying  his  attention.  ''  Yes, 
I  remember  to  have  seen  one  of  his  engravings  which  is  some- 
thing like  it ;  but  the  personages  there  were  a  lady  and  her 
champion  journeying  toward  an  enchanter's  den."  After  a 
pause,  he  added,  "  There  is  always,  I  suppose,  some  sort  of 
truth  at  the  bottom  of  these  old  myths." 

This  platitude  was  uttered  for  lack  of  something  fresher  or 
wiser ;  and  he  was  surprised  to  see  Jessica's  face  chine  for  an 
instant  afterward,  as  though  a  hope  had  flashed  out  of  its  tomb. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  ALL   THE    BLESSEDNESS    OF    SLEEP." 

The  household  at  Cypress  Beach  dispersed  earlier  than 
Tisual  that  night.  Jessica  walked  to  her  room,  and  sat  down 
wearily.  The  enforced  brightness  of  the  evening  had  left  her 
face,  and  an  indefinable  set  look  had  come  instead.  It  was  as 
though  her  soul  had  been  stolen. 

By  and  by  she  loosened  and  removed  her  shoes  ;  then  sank 
back  in  her  chair,  and  sat  quite  still  again.  She  heard  all  the 
human  sounds  of  the  house  die  away  one  by  one.  She  saw 
the  last  reflected  lamplight  disappear  from  the  lawn  and  the 
trees.  She  waited  yet  longer  till  sleep  settled  heavily  upon 
Cypress  Beach.  Then  came  the  time  which  she  had  known 
all  along  woit'd  come. 

There  was  no  signal  to  eye  or  ear,  yet  a  hempen  rope  could 
not  have  drawn  her  more  surely.  She  stepped,  without  voli- 
tion, to  the  door,  opened  it  cautiously,  and  passed  silently 
through  the  halls  down  the  old  staircase,  and  out  at  the  half- 
open  front  door.  Turning  aside,  she  approached  the  dense 
shadow  of  a  linden  tree,  doubly  dark  in  that  sparsely  starlit 
night.  A  storm  was  racing  up  from  the  west  with  mutterings 
of  thunder,  and  flushes,  rather  than  flashes,  of  lightning. 

Before  she  had  quite  passed  under  the  tree,  she  felt  her 
hand  clasped;  but  could  neither  shrink  nor  shudder  as  the 
deathly  thrill  crept  up  her  nerves.  Then  Vamper's  voice 
congratulated  her  on  her  promptness.  She  felt  him  draw 
her  toward  him — helpless,  will-less,  breathless ! 

He  had  spoken  in  a  plainly  audible  voice,  knowing  that 
nothing  less  than  shouting  was  likely  to  waken  the  sleepers 
within  the  house,  and  not  being  aware  of  any  watcher  out- 
side. 


'ALL  THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF  SLEEP.' 


59 


In  almost  iiibtant  refpmse,  i:  bo\i.-h  voice  at  no  great  dis- 
tance cried  out,  "Aha,  I've  got  yc  u  r.ovv  !"  and  Vamper  started 
back  as  if  expecting  a  shot.  Jes:  ica  rushed  toward  the  house. 
Almost  in  her  pathway  she  de.«-cricd  a  dim  figure  levelling  a 
gun  at  her.  "Prince!"  she  shric  led  ;  and  simultaneously  a 
flash  of  lightning  from  the  new  nearly  overhanging  storm 
threw  them  both  into  strong  re'ief 

As  soon  as  the  crash  and  echoing  of  thunder  ceased,  the  boy 
began — 

"  Why,  Cousin  Jessie,  why!  I'm  mighty  glad  I  didn't  fire. 
I  didn't  suspect  it  was  you.  Does  your  voice  ever  sound  like 
a  man's  ?     I  disremembcr Well !" 

The  last  exclamation  was  caused  by  her  disappearance.  She 
did  not  pause  till  she  reached  her  own  room,  breathing  like  a 
hunted  doe.  A  sense  of  unmerited  shame  fairly  overcame 
her.  Beyond  this  she  was  in  a  medley  of  emotions.  Would 
Prince  tell !  IV/mt  would  he  tell  ?  Might  it  not  be  best  if  he 
did?  Exposure  would  be  very  dreadful;  but  nothing  could 
be  so  bad  as  this  hovering  of  surely  settling  sin.  Great  vistas 
of  deepening  shade  and  multiplying  terror  stretched  out  into 
her  future  as  she  thought.  Was  there  any  whiteness  of  her 
soul,  any  innermost  sanctuary  of  self,  which  might  hope  to 
escape  desecration  ?  With  such  uncannily  deft  and  knowing 
hands  (delighting  in  the  work)  to  urge  and  drag,  and  snare  and 
weary  her  poor  disheartened,  fitfully  liberated,  human  will,  who 
could  say  how  or  when  tlie  uncertain  line  might  be  passed 
which  separates  helpless  yielding  from  measurably  responsible 
volition.  No  backward  steps  t/ie?i ;  no  salvation  !  She  strove 
to  kneel ;  but  she  could  not  either  in  body  or  spirit.  Did  God 
really  give  over  human  souls  to  devils  ? 

Her  last  thought,  as  she  passed  into  a  disordered  slumber, 
Avas  that  the  throbbing  in  her  finger  (due  perhaps  to  the  day's 
almost  continuous  horseback  exercise)  was  a  demon-dance  in 
the  depths  of  the  great  flame-panting  gem  which  she  could  not 
discard  (for  more  than  a  conventional  restraint  was  upon  her 
now) — that  gem  which  had  brought  down  from  a  long  dead 
past  the  message  and  the  menace  of  an  undx'ing  sin. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  GOOD      AT      NEED." 

Prince  was  puzzled  and  disquieted,  but  his  faith  in  Jessica 
would  not  suffer  him  to  suspect  anything  disgraceful  or  hu- 
miliating. He  thought  the  matter  over  after  the  rain  had 
driven  him  indoors ;  and  decided  with  precocious  considera- 
tions to  keep  silence,  and  to  avoid  anything  which  might  even 
seem  like  watching  her.  There  was  more  of  affection  and 
family  pride  than  curiosity  in  Prince's  composition. 

Meanwhile  an  equally  devoted  friend  was  (more  wisely)  be- 
stirring herself  in  Jessica's  cause. 

Soon  after  dawn,  the  young  lady  heard  a  gentle  tapping  at 
her  door,  and  the  voice  of  Mammy  Charlotte  saying  "Miss 
Jessie." 

"  Come  in.  Mammy,"  was  the  languid  response. 

Mammy  Charlotte  was  certainly  nearer  to  a  comprehension 
of  the  case  than  any  one  else  at  Cypress  Beach.  Love  had 
sharpened  her  perceptions,  and  Vamper  (underrating  mulatto 
acuteness)  had  taken  no  special  pains  to  mask  his  proceedings 
from  her.  She  had  noticed  Jessica's  involuntary  head-turn- 
ings and  glances,  and  Vamper's  expression  of  concentrated 
will  and  exultant  half-smile.  Indeed  these  last  had  seemed  to 
recur  even  when  Jessica  was  away  on  her  afternoon  ride,  and 
the  old  nurse  had  been  \astly  relieved  by  the  little  lady's  re- 
turn— safe  though  clearly  in  an  abnormal  condition.  More- 
over, she  had  met  her  son  John  on  the  evening  before,  and 
had  gleaned  no  little  terror  from  his  vague,  boastful  hints  of 
his  "boss's"    occult   power.      She  had   brooded  over  these 


"GOOD  AT  NEED."  6l 

thoughts  at  night,  until,  out  of  gloomy  thoughts  and  dire 
traditions,  an  unearthly  figure  reared  itself  in  her  imagination. 
It  has  borne  many  names  in  many  lands.  She  called  it — 
"Conjure." 

Her  object  that  morning  was  to  investigate  the  matter  by  a 
candid  loving  talk  with  her  young  mistress.  As  she  entered, 
the  first  things  she  saw  were  Jessica's  stockings  stained  with 
earth  and  blood,  and  torn  where  sharp  sticks  had  pierced 
them  in  her  hurried  flight.  Mammy  Charlotte  stooped  with 
a  low  exclamation  of  dismay,  and  then  raised  them  one  at  a 
time,  shaking  her  head.  For  a  moment  there  was  utter  hor- 
ror in  her  mind.     "  Miss  Jessie,"  was  all  she  could  say. 

The  young  girl,  utterly  unstrung,  only  covered  her  face 
moaning.  This  tended  to  confirm  Charlotte's  worst  fears;  but 
she  drew  near  and  laid  her  hand  tenderly  on  the  fine  head 
with  its  wealth  of  tangled  hair.  "  Honey,"  she  asked,  in  a 
hushed,  shaken  voice,  "is  it  too  late?" 

Jessica  shook  her  head. 

Mammy  Charlotte  breathed  more  freely. 

•*  No,  thank  de  Lord,  <:/af  couldn't  be.  He  wouldn't  'low  no 
such  dessiccation.  But  can't  you  tell  me  about  it,  hon' :  I 
wants  to  help  you." 

Jessica's  bosom  heaved  ;  her  hands  went  down  ;  her  face 
was  contorted  with  effort ;  a  look  of  intense  fright  and  despair 
came  into  her  eyes  ;  and  she  gasped,  "  I — I  caritr  Then  she 
turned  over  with  a  changed  expression,  saying  peevishly, 
"There  now,  do  leave  me." 

The  old  woman  sighed,  but  passed  out  and  busied  herself 
in  removing  all  traces  of  the  night's  adventure.  While  doing 
so,  she  thought  out  several  plans  of  relief  She  could  not 
bring  herself  to  adopt  any  which  would  endanger  Jessica's 
good  name. 

When  the  latter  came  down  to  breakfast,  she  had  need  of  all 
the  inertia  of  past  training  and  experience,  to  present  a  calm 
and  conventional  exterior.  Almost  the  first  words  that  she 
heard  threatened  trouble. 


62  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

As  her  cousin  appeared,  Captain  Hawksley  asked  him  with 
forced  jocoseness  :  "Well,  Prince,  did  you  have  any  luck  in 
your  sport  last  night?" 

She  listened  anxiously,  hardly  knowing  what  she  wished. 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  Prince,  though  with  rather  a  conscious 
look,  "  I  didn't  get  to  shoot  at  'em.  This  waiting  in  the  rain 
for  thieves  is  might}^  indifferent  fun.  I  shan't  try  it  again.  Cap- 
tain." 

Jessica  could  not  misunderstand  the  emphasis  laid  on  the 
last  sentence,  though  he  looked  sedulously  away  from  her; 
and  she  felt  grateful  accordingly.  There  was  even  a  certain 
relief  in  the  postponement  of  a  crisis.  Any  conceivable  out- 
come of  the  present  complications  was  very  dreadful. 

The  rest  of  the  party  began  to  rally  Prince  on  his  newl}/  de- 
veloped dread  of  hardship.  Jessica  saw  his  easily  kindled  dis- 
pleasure mounting  to  his  eyes,  and  flushing  his  cheek,  and 
she  had  opened  her  lips  to  interfere,  when  she  saw  her  uncle 
summoned  to  the  door.  Presently  an  exclamation  from  him 
cut  short  a  mumbled  message;  and  he  came  hastily  travelling 
back  with  his  heavy  oscillating  tread. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  not  waiting  to  see  you  off,  Mr.  Chaun- 
cey,"  said  he,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  But  I  have  just  been 
advised  that  one  of  my  finest  horses  is  almost  in  the  pangs  of 
dissolution.  I  trust  you  will  make  allowance  for  my  scant 
politeness,  which  is  at  the  mercy  of  adverse  circumstances." 

"Certainly!  certainly!"  replied  Chauncey.  "  Don't  let  me 
detain  you  a  minute.  You  may  be  in  time  to  save  the  poor 
brute." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  are  going  to  lea\e  us  !"  said  Jessica 
to  Chauncey. 

*'  I  must,"  he  answered  ;  "  that  official  quill  of  mine  trembles 
in  the  balance." 

"  Those  public  moneys  !"  exclaimed  Vamper,  clasping  his 
hands  with  an  affectation  of  rapture.  *'  Let  us  officiate.  Let 
us  deplete." 

The  words  were  unpleasantly  meant,  for  Ishmael  had  ac- 


"  GOOD  AT   NEED."  6$ 

quired  a  supplemental  hostility  to  the  spruce  young  fellow 
who  so  easily  outshone  him  in  several  directions.  Moreover, 
he  could  read  through  Robert  Chauncey's  easy  indifference  of 
manner ;  and  the  contempt,  which  grew  out  of  a  refined  taste, 
somehow  came  home  to  him  a  little  more  nearly  than  the  con- 
t:'mot  which  grew  out  of  honor  or  manhood. 

Chauncey  ate  on  composedly,  but  with  a  perceptible  line  of 
vexation  between  the  eyes.  Jessica  hastened  to  say  her  (ew 
gracious  words  of  regret;  but  rather  lamely,  for  she  was  not 
at  all  sure  that  she  wished  him  to  stay.  She  hardly  knew 
what  she  wished  about  anything  or  anybody. 

Robert  Chauncey,  on  his  part,  felt  that  life  at  Cypress  Beach 
had  become  insupportable.  It  was  bitter  to  think  that  he  left 
no  void  behind ;  bitterer  still  to  see  his  most  dangerous  rival 
left  in  full  possession  of  the  field  (for  Vamper  did  not  count) ; 
yet  nothing  would  be  gained  by  remaining.  Indeed,  his  best 
hope  lay  in  some  possible  opportunity  to  show  Jessica  that 
there  were  capabilities  in  him  which  she  could  not  contemn 
and  might  be  proud  of  But  he  saw  no  chance  to  distinguish 
himself  in  Accomac. 

He  was  very  willing  to  part  from  the  other  men.  Even  if 
they  had  not  been  rivals,  he  never  could  have  liked  Captain 
Hawksley.  All  mobile  temperaments  find  something  repel- 
lant  in  these  persistent,  statuesque  natures  which  are  sure  to 
be  ten  years  hence  just  what  they  were  ten  years  ago,  and 
which  are  forever  certain  of  being  exactly  in  the  right.  The 
man's  enthusiasms  were  such  as  Chauncey  could  not  share  in 
any  degree;  and  he  stood  aghast  before  such  unrelenting 
earnestness  of  purpose  and  preposterous  recalcitrancy  of  aim. 
They  were  as  incomprehensible  as  Roger  Armstrong's  sudden 
transitions  from  barbaric  roaring  to  truest  courtesy;  or  Ish- 
mael  Vamper's  inhuman  selfishness  and  grotesque  love  of  evil. 
Robert  Chauncey  was  going  back  to  those  whom  he  cou/d 
understand,  and  who  could  understand  him. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"ST.    MICHAEL   AND   THE    DRAGON." 

As  Mr.  Armstrong  placed  his  foot  on  the  step  of  the 
buggy  he  heard  his  name  called ;  and  turned,  to  see  Mammy 
Charlotte  making  toward  him  rheumatically. 

**  Zounds  and  death,  woman !"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  fury  of 
impatience;  "What  do  you  want?" 

She  saw  his  unfitness  to  hear;  but  her  need  was  urgent. 
Struggling  hard  with  the  necessity  for  conciseness,  the  pains 
in  her  back  and  limbs,  and  her  shortness  of  breath,  she  began 
confusedly — 

"Marse  Roger — I  want — tell  you — Mr.  Vampire " 

"  Hang  Mr.  Vamper !"  he  replied,  beginning  to  climb. 

But  she  persisted  :  "  Marse  Roger  'ndeed " 

"Must  you  tell  me  now,  Charlotte  ?"  he  cried,  with  a  queer 
hopelessness  of  tone. 

"  Indeed " 

"  Then  in  with  you  ! — in  with  you  and  tell  me  as  we  go," 
he  exclaimed,  fairly  hustling  her  into  the  vehicle  as  he  spoke, 
and  clambering  rapidly  after.  They  drove  off  at  a  surprising 
rate  of  speed.  He  was  in  one  of  his  instantaneous  moods 
(which  almost  always  had  some  sort  of  relation  to  his  sacred 
horseflesh),  and  nothing  but  lightning  would  satisfy  him. 

This  was  very  disconcerting  to  Mammy  Charlotte's  plans- 
She  had  determined  to  guard  Miss  Jessie  night  and  day,  and 
now  every  moment  whirled  her  farther  and  farther  from  Cy- 
press Beach. 


"ST.    MICHAEL   AND   THE   DRAGON."  65 

"  Marse  Roger,"  she  petitioned,  as  soon  as  she  could ;  "  I 
wish  you'd  let  me  'light." 

"  By  Zines,  Charlotte,"  he  replied,  excitedly,  "  I  can't  stop 
now.     But  what  did  you  want  to  tell  me  ?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  fearing  to  say  too  much  ;  then 
spoke  out  boldly — 

"  Marse  Roger,  I  wish  Mr.  Vampire  would  go  away." 

"  Good  Lord,  so  do  I  !     Is  that  all  ?" 

"Then  why  don't  you  scud  him  away,  Marse  Roger?" — 
feeling  at  the  same  time  that  she  was  taking  a  prodigious 
liberty. 

He  looked  at  her  as  if  she  were  about  to  be  transformed. 

"Well!"  said  he. 

After  a  while  he  asked  gravely — 

"  Did  you  ever  know  of  anybody  being  sent  away  from 
Cypress  Beach  ?  Do  you  think  that  would  be  hospitable, 
Charlotte  ?" 

•'  I  don't  believe  in  no  hospitality  to  a  dessiccation,"  she  an- 
swered doggedly. 

"A  what?"  asked  he,  forgetting  in  his  amusement  all  about 
the  dying  horse,  but  still  driving  on,  mechanically  and  like 
Jehu. 

"A  dessication,  sir,"  she  replied ;  "  there  didn't  ought  to  be 
no  conjure  in  Cypress  Beach,  Marse  Roger." 

He  leaned  back  in  his  seat  and  laughed  long  and  loudly, 
with  a  world  of  side-shaking,  and  an  occasional  interjected 
"  Good  Lord !"  or  "  Zines  and  Death  !"  At  last  he  com- 
manded himself  sufficiently  to  say — 

"  The  desecration  will  be  terminated  soon,  Charlotte.  He 
will  leave  us  in  a  day  or  two — your  conjurer." 

Here  he  broke  down  again  in  a  fit  of  laughter  at  the  de- 
lusion of  this  patient  retainer,  whose  faith  was  not  a  whit 
shaken  by  his  ridicule. 

His  mirth  and  her  captivity  ended  suddenly.  One  of  the 
buggy  wheels,  which  had  long  been  rickety,  gave  way  with  a 
crash,  and  after  a  few  seconds  of  pitching  and  dragging,  both 
6 


^(i  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

the  occupants  of  the  vehicle  found  themselves  in  the  road, 
Mr.  Armstrong's  hands  still  held  the  reins,  anchoring  the  horse 
securely.  As  usual,  he  was  not  much  damaged,  owing  to  the 
solidity  of  his  frame,  his  firmness  of  muscular  texture,  and  his 
full  cushioning  of  softer  material.  Charlotte,  who  struck  upon 
him  (thankfully)  as  she  fell,  declared  afterward  that  she  did  not 
feel  a  bone. 

"  This,"  he  remarked,  sitting  bolt  upright  like  a  Japanese 
idol,  "  is  a  most  untoward  incident." 

No  one  contradicting  the  oracle,  he  continued — 
"  That  wheel  has  been  very  bad  for  a  long  time,  but  it  is  a 
most  indifferent  article  now." 

His  companion  gazed  at  it  ruefully  without  a  word,  as  she 
stood  rubbing  herself 

"  Charlotte  !"  he  called  to  her,  as  if  suddenly  waking,  and  in 
a  tone  that  made  her  start, ''  run  up  to  Mason's  house  yonder — 
d'you  hear — and  tell  him  to  come  down  and  help  me." 

The  overseer's  house  referred  to  was  fully  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  up  a  side-road  leading  to  the  river;  so  some  time  passed 
before  she  delivered  her  message.  Then  she  rested  a  little  and 
reflected.  Should  she  hobble  wearily  back  to  the  buggy  and 
await  its  very  doubtful  return,  with  only  a  choice  between  sub- 
sequent capricious  abduction  and  an  interminable  homeward 
journey  down  the  road  on  foot?  She  could  render  no  real 
assistance  to  "  Marse  Roger,"  and  was  quite  in  despair  of  ob- 
taining any  help  from  him  without  disclosing  what  must  be 
kept  secret  for  "  Miss  Jessie's"  sake.  The  v^xy  thou;';ht  of  that 
loved  name  and  its  owner's  peril,  drove  her,  like  an  external 
impulsion,  instantly  into  what  she  had  been  dimly  foreseeing 
and  moaning  over  for  at  least  ten  minutes — a  painful  cross- 
country tramp  to  the  head  of  the  cove  at  Cypress  Beach.  The 
unusual  exercise  over  the  rough  fields  racked  her  joints  un- 
speakably ;  but  she  held  up  and  kept  on. 

At  last,  when  the  cove  was  nearly  reached,  she  could  go  no 
further.  She  saw  two  figures  come  out  of  the  house  and  move 
down  toward  a  boat.     In  the  taller  she  recognized  Captain 


"ST.    MICHAEL  AND   THE   DRAGON."  6/ 

Tlawksley,  in  the  other,  Mr.  Chauncey.  She  understood  that 
the  Virginian's  courtesy  had  led  him  (in  Mr.  Armstrong's  ab- 
sence) to  escort  his  rival  to  the  steamboat  (with  no  sense  of  the 
irony  involved  in  that  service);  and  that  an  easily-guessed 
influence  had  prevented  Jessica  from  accompanying  them. 
"  Marse  Roger"  stranded  far  away,  the  visitors  just  departing, 
herself  exhausted  in  the  field,  nobody  at  home  for  at  least  the 
next  half-hour  except  the  "  conjurer"  and  his  victim  !  Mammy 
Cliarlotte  gasped  and  chilled  as  her  mind  ran  o\'er  the  facts 
which  made  up  the  situation.  Then  new  life  came  to  her 
limbs,  and  she  hurried  over  the  remaining  space.  Chauncey 
had  just  taken  his  seat  in  the  boat,  and  Hawksley  was  about 
to  step  in  after  him.  when  she  caught  the  latter  by  his  sleeve 
Avith  the  single  breathless  imploring  word — 

"Don't!" 

He  turned  to  see  who  obstructed  him,  and  when  he  found 
that  it  was  a  negress,  shook  off  her  hand  as  if  it  had  been  pol- 
lution. Then  the  instense  solicitude  of  her  face,  and  the 
thought  that  after  all  she  was  Miss  Armstrong's  old-time 
nurse,  made  him  ask  with  seme  little  unbending — 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  good  woman  ?" 

The  captain  was  not  altogether  a  fa\-orite  with  Charlotte. 
She  was  very  ready  to  admit  the  claims  of  the  dominant 
caste,  especially  of  the  "  quality ;"  but  she  thought  that 
they  should  be  assumed  as  inherent  in  the  nature  of  things, 
and  requiring  no  more  assertion  or  even  perception  than  the 
act  of  breathing.  That  was  Marse  Roger's  habitual  attitude 
in  his  relations  with  the  colored  people.  Now,  Captain 
Hawksley  either  arrogated  or  condescended,  and  this  made 
the  recognition  of  divine  right  more  difficult.  But  at  present 
she  could  think  only  of  succor  for  her  young  mistress,  so  she 
uttered  desperately  and  piteously  the  words — "  Miss  Jessie 
ivants  you,  sir." 

The  woman's  hysterical  excitement  almost  defeated  itself. 
Captain  Hawksley  looked  doubtfully  at  her,  and  asked — 

"Are  you  sure  ?  It  is  only  a  few  moments  since  wc  left 
her." 


68  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

But  Charlotte  urged — 

''Do  go,  sir.  Dont  wait,  sir !  Do  go !"  and  sank  dizzily 
down,  still  pointing  toward  the  house. 

Hawksley  began  to  surmise  that  something  must  be  really 
wrong;  but  he  hesitated  to  abandon  his  companion.  The  lat- 
ter, stung  by  what  he  thought  Jessica's  indelicate  indication 
of  preference  at  the  very  instant  of  his  own  departure,  and 
blinded  by  jealousy  to  all  else,  struck  in  ironically — 

"Oh,  don't  mind  me!  For  heaven's  sake  don't  keep  the 
young  lady  waiting.     Pull  off,  Noah  !" 

Before  the  captain  could  get  ready  his  retort,  the  boat  was 
several  lengths  from  the  shore,  and  still  speeding  outward. 
Too  dignified  to  call  after  it,  but  swelling  wath  wrath  which 
must  have  an  outlet,  Hawksley  wheeled,  as  if  on  parade,  and 
strode  rapidly  toward  the  house.  On  the  way  an  uncomfort- 
able sensation,  as  though  something  shadowy  and  malignant 
lay  in  wait  for  him,  came  into  his  mind. 

The  course  he  took  brought  him  to  the  crest  of  a  little 
mound  which  afforded  a  view  of  the  interior  of  the  secluded 
library.  His  first  glance  into  the  latter  brought  him  to  a 
standstill.  He  .saw  two  heads  bent  slightly  away  from  him, 
the  feminine  one  in  a  passive,  listening  attitude.  Was  he  the 
spectator  of  a  secret  lovers'  interview? — and  one  party  to  it 
the  very  woman  whom  Jie  loved  !  Decidedly  he  must  call  out 
Vamper  that  afternoon;  yet  he  could  not  stand  there  play- 
ing the  spy.  But  as  he  was  about  to  withdraw,  old  Charlotte's 
words,  "  Miss  Jessie  wants  you,"  came  back  to  him  with  a  new 
meaning  ;  and  he  paused  irresolutely  to  look  again. 

There  certainly  did  seem  to  be  something  constrained  in  the 
young  lady's  attitude.  And  tJiat — was  it  an  effort  for  free- 
dom ?" — a  last,  ail-but  powerless  endeavor  to  fly  from  some 
shocking  utterance  or  imminent  peril  !  Then  he  saw  Vam- 
per's  hand  moving  over  her  brow  in  slow  passes  ;  and  her 
form  relaxed  and  sank  back  as  if  into  soundest  slumber. 

Captain  Hawksley  had  had  too  wide  an  experience  of  the 
world  not  to  know  the  reality  of  the  mesmeric  power,  and  the 
sinister  meaning   of  the  phenomena  he  had  just  witnessed 


"ST.   MICHAEL  AND   THE   DRAGON."  69 

For  a  moment  his  heart  swelled,  his  eyes  dilated,  and  he 
gasped.  Then  his  hand  flew  to  his  pistol-pocket.  It  was 
empty ;  the  weapon  perhaps  having  fallen  out  as  he  ascended 
the  hill.  There  was  no  time  to  look  for  it  now.  He  vastly 
preferred  fighting  by  machinery,  as  being  at  once  more  gentle- 
manly and  more  deadly ;  but  he  could  make  formidable  use 
of  his  bare  hands  when  necessity  arose.  He  sprang  forward 
with  swift,  silent  strides  over  the  thick  sod,  and  vaulted  heavily 
in  through  the  open  window,  alighting  just  behind  Vamper, 
as  the  latter  bent,  gloating. 

Captain  Hawksley's  momentum  made  it  impossible  for  him 
to  gain  instantly  a  firm  footing  or  strike  a  decisive  blow;  and 
before  he  could  recover  himself,  Vamper  rallied  for  defence. 
The  two  men  faced  one  another  with  all  the  wild  beast  which 
underlies  human  nature  glaring  out  of  both;  but  in  one  it  was 
the  mountain  panther,  in  the  other  the  vile  hyena.  Vamper 
was  no  very  unequal  antagonist,  however.  Though  perfectly 
capable  of  shirking  any  danger  which  could  be  shirked,  he  had 
the  courage  and  alertness  of  a  demon.  If  Hawksley  had  en- 
tered with  deadly  weapons,  Vamper  would  have  faced  him 
empt}^  handed  without  flinching — always  supposing  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  escape  by  supplication  and  abasement.  Chance 
had  brought  them  together  unarmed,  and  he  was  prepared  to 
fight  it  out  with  cynical  vigilance  and  audacity,  confident  in 
his  skill  as  a  boxer. 

At  the  first  onset  Hawksley  found  his  rapid  blows  turned 
successively  aside,  and  received  in  return  a  swift,  stinging,  up- 
ward stroke  Vvhich  almost  carried  him  off  his  feet.  Then, 
fairly  possessed  by  fury,  he  dashed  in  upon  Vamper  regardless 
of  injury,  drove  him  bodily  into  the  hall,  and  grappled  him 
by  the  throat  with  both  hands.  Vamper,  game  to  the  last, 
clutched  back  with  his  left  hand  as  best  he  could,  and  beat 
vehemently  with  his  right  fist  on  Hawksley's  face,  every  blow 
leaving  a  disfiguring  mark.  Nevertheless,  he  would  surely 
have  passed  out  of  our  story  then  and  there  had  not  Mr. 
Armstrong  reappeared  to  save  him. 


70  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

The  contestants  had  scarcely  heard  their  host's  astounded 
"  Zounds  and  death,  gentlemen,  this  is  disrespectful  to  my 
hospitality !"  before  they  found  themselves  wrenched  apart  as 
by  a  cyclone.  The  homily  went  on,  he  standing  between 
them. 

"  This  house  has  never  been  characterized  as  a  lunatic  asy- 
lum. If  gentlemen  must  quarrel,  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the 
satisfaction  customarily  recognized." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  sir,"  replied  Captain  Hawksley,  stepping 
back  to  get  clear  of  Roger's  peace-pre.serving  grasp,  and  hold- 
ing himself  with  dignity,  in  spite  of  his  damaged  face.  He 
added,  **  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir." 

The  older  man,  seeing  whither  his  hasty  language  tended 
looked  uncomfortable,  and  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  to 
suggest  that  exactly,  either.  It  isn't  every  passionate  act  that 
calls  ■'or  the  deprivation  of  life.  But  fisticuffs,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence (  f  a  lady " 

"  I  regyard  that  matter  just  as  you  do,  my  dear  sir,"  inter- 
rupted the  captain. 

"  Then  '  let  us  have  peace.'  Let  us  pacificate,"  proposed 
Vamper,  extending  his  hand  with  a  grimace. 

"I  will  not  disguise  the  fact  that  the  same  world  cannot 
hold  us  both,"  replied  Hawksley,  with  folded  arms. 

"How  I  shall  lament  your  departure!.  When  will  you 
suicide?"  sneered  Vamper. 

Hawksley  made  no  reply.  He  had  determined  on  a  line. of 
action  that  should  be  more  eiTectual  than  any  words. 

Roger  Armstrong  looked  from  one  of  them  to  the  other, 
and  then  in  toward  the  girl,  who  still  remained  so  strangely 
motionless.  "  What  does  all  this  mean  ?"  he  demanded  in  a 
voice  of  rising  suspicion. 

For  a  few  moments  nobody  answered.  His  bewilderment 
was  growing  strangely  pathetic.  It  seemed  as  though  that 
sunny,  wholesome  human  world  wherein  he  abode  had  been 
at  last  invaded  by  a  breath,  a  more  than  menacing  whisper, 
from  some  subtler,  less  palpable  condition  of  being  (long  en- 


"ST.   MICHAEL  AND  THE   DRAGON."         *  ^  \ 

meshed,  unsuspected,  with  his  own),  which  his  nature  forbade 
him  to  explore. 

He  moved  hke  one  with  the  dumb  ague,  and  repeated  hij 
question  in  a  suppressed  voice. 

Captain  Hawksley  loved  truth  as  he  loved  honor ;  but  to 
shield  a  woman's  reputation — and  that  necessity  was  most  in- 
timately brought  home  to  him  now.  Anything  like  an  acc:-- 
rate  explanation  would  call  forth  such  an  outbreal:  of  Arm- 
strong's wrath  as  would  din  the  story  into  the  ears  of  all  within 
reach.  It  would  travel  from  Smiling  Susan,  already  airing  her 
inseparable  mirth  around  a  corner,  to  the  whole  neighborhood 
of  servants  and  their  employers.  Nor  would  it  be  possible  to 
confine  rumor  to  the  mere  facts.  Dangers  happily,  or  at  least 
measurably  past,  would  become  actual  triumphs  of  evil  in  the 
convictions  of  every  gossip.  Jessica  would  be  at  best  an 
object  o{  most  disparaging  pity.  The  thing  was  not  to  be 
borne.  Before  the  inquiry  could  be  a  second  time  repeated, 
he  answered  with  all  rigid  assurance,and  quite  unable  to  blusli 
through  his  blood — 

"  It  is  a  very  simple  matter,  vc,y  dear  sir.  Mr.  Vamper  and 
myself  regyard  one  another's  political  opinions  unfavorably. 
We  exchanged  views ;  and  somewhat  more — as  you  saw. 
Miss  Armstrong,  may  have  come  in  during  the  altercation, 
and  fainted." 

"  Zounds  and  death,  so  she  has  !"  exclaimed  the  old  gentle- 
man, hurrying  toward  her.  Then  he  turned  and  rushed  to 
another  room  for  water. 

As  he  passed  out  Hawksley  and  Vamper  exchanged  glances. 
That  of  the  former  spoke  deadly  menace;  that  of  the  latter, 
satirical  defiance.  They  seemed,  howe\er,  to  agree  on  one 
point.  In  pursuance  of  that  agreement  Vamper  took  one  of 
Jessica's  hands  in  his  left,  and  with  his  right  made  certain 
passes  for  rousing  the  mesmeric  sleeper.  He  stopped  as  her 
uncle's  step  approached  ;  but  she  was  already  opening  her 
eyes. 

"Ah,    chafing    her    hands!"    exclaimed    Mr.    Armstrong; 


72 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


*'  that's  right,  gentlemen.  Let  me  get  there  to  sprinkle 
her." 

But  Jessica  struggled  up  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  put  the 
water  aside  with  her  free  hand,  saying  feebly,  "  Never  mind^ 
Uncle,  I  am  better  now." 

Vamper  then  released  her  other  hand.  Hawksley,  watch- 
ing him,  fancied  that  The  Lady's  Ring,  which  she  wore  there- 
on, emitted  a  faint  flash  or  glimmer  of  light.  It  was  an  odd 
apparition  for  a  sane  rnan  to  behold,  but  one  who  has  been 
vehemently  pounded  about  the  optic  nerves  may  see  almost 
anything. 

As  soon  as  Mammy  Charlotte  came  on  the  scene,  the  cap- 
tain resigned  to  her  his  post  beside  Jessica,  with  a  word  and  a 
glance  of  warning  which  were  not  thrown  away.  Then  he  an- 
nounced that  he  should  leave  at  once  for  Nodaway.  Mr. 
Armstrong,  finding  him  resolved,  offered  to  drive  him  thither, 
but  this  was  declined,  Hawksley  wishing  to  avoid  further  in- 
quiries. 

*'  It  is  no  fault  of  mine  that  you  have  quarrelled  and  will  not 
remain,"  protested  his  host  with  a  wounded  air,  as  they  parted 
at  the  gate. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  know  that,"  answered  Hawksley  ;  "  I'm 
coming  back  when  that  fellow  is  out  of  the  way." 

"  He  will  go  soon,"  said  Mr.  Armstrong. 

"Can't  you  induce  him  to  abridge  even  that?"  asked  the 
captain,  feeling  that  he  was  giving  Vamper  a  last  chance. 

Roger  Armstrong  looked  puzzled  and  troubled. 

"I  have  hinted  as  far  as  decency  would  allow.  I  cannot 
well  do  more.     Now  caii  I?" 

"  No,  sir,"  assented  Hawksley ;  "  but  perhaps  there  may  be 
a  providential  interposition.  Meanwhile,  I  think  it  would 
benefit  your  neice  if  you  were  to  take  her  out  for  a  drive 
this  afternoon.  Nothing  so  good  as  fresh  air,  sunlight,  and 
exercise  for  one  who  is  disposed  to  be  delicate." 


CHAPTER    XL 

"who  cares  for  nothing  alone  is  free." 

Vamper  was  cordially  dissatisfied.  Thwarting  had  followed 
thwartincr,  and  now  his  secret  was  known  to  at  least  one  man 
whose  very  silence  was  deadly.  He  must  leave  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  that  soon,  or  remain  forever.  Should  he  leave  it, 
alone  ? 

He  thought  these  things  over  elaborately,  as  he  sat  after 
dinner  under  a  great  drooping  willow,  near  the  house, 
with  an  eye  for  every  cover  whence  a  rifle  ball  could  come. 
His  view  commanded  a  considerable  reach  of  road,  down 
which  Jessica  and  her  uncle  were  driving.  A  single  ap- 
proaching horseman  passed  them  with  a  rather  formal  salute. 
Vamper  saw  the  carriage  halt  soon  after  and  Mr.  Armstrong 
peer  out  backward,  as  though  half  inclined  to  return.  But 
either  his  own  inertia  or  his  companion's  remonstrance  over- 
came this  tendency,  and  they  drove  on  again.  Then  the 
watcher's  attention  was  drawn  once  more  to  the  horseman, 
who  came  steadily  nearer. 

At  first  Vamper  meditated  withdrawing  to  the  house,  but 
on  seeing  that  the  new  comer  was  small  and  not  very  trucu- 
lent looking,  he  concluded  to  stand  his  ground.  The  little 
man  dismounted  at  the  gate,  and  walked  jauntily  up  to  him, 
saying — 

"  I  believe  I  have  not  had  the  honor,  sir,  of  meeting  you 
befo'.  Permit  me  to  introduce  myself  as  Lieutenant  White, 
of  the  Confederate  army." 

Vamper  looked  at  him  with  impertinent  quizzicalness. 


74 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


"Jess  SO — !"  said  he,  drawling;  "and  yet  your  colors  are 
hardly  subdued  enough  for  that." 

The  dapper  Heutenant,  who  had  rather  over  attired  himself 
for  this  interview,  flushed  angrily,  and  said — 

**  I  did  not  come  here  to  qua'U  with  a  Yankee,  sir.     Cap- 
tain Hawksley,  sir,  has  seen  fit  to  treat  you  as   a  gentleman,, 
sir,  and  as  an  equal,  sir  ;  and  if  you'll  be  kyind  enough,  sir,  to 
indicate  your  friend,  we  will  settle  this  matter  befo'  long,  sir. 
But  your  kyard  would  not  be  considered  by  me,  sir." 

When  the  little  lieutenant's  dignity  rose  in  wrath,  the  "sirs" 
came  as  fast  as  the  black  motes  from  a  pepper  box.  Vamper 
enjoyed  the  scene  hugely. 

"  Now,  you  don't  say  !"  he  drawled  in  reply. 

"  Please  name  your  friend,"  cried  the  other,  stamping  his 
little  foot. 

"  Friend  ?  friend  ?"  drawled  Vamper,  as  if  trying  to  recall 
some  forgotten  term.  "Ah,  yes.  Ahem  ! — '  friend,  an  extinct 
species  supposed  to  have  passed  away  with  the  mastodon  and 
the  dodo.'     Ahem — dictionary." 

"  Have  you  nothing  more  to  the  purpose  to  say  than  that  ?" 
asked  the  lieutenant,  fuming,  as  he  drew  an  envelope  from  an 
inner  pocket.  "  I  have  come  to  bring  this,  in  the  capacity  of 
Captain  Hawksley's  friend,  and " 

"Are  you  really  a  y"r/V?^<^.^ — Captain  Hawksley's  friend?" 
interrupted  Vamper,  with  the  air  of  one  who  inquires  about  a 
questionable  monstrosity. 

"  I  have  that  honor,  sir,"  replied  the  lieutenant. 

Vamper  walked  first  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  as  if  to 
see  all  sides  of  this  phenomenon. 

"  Well,  well,"  commented  he,  meditatively.  "Does  he  take 
good  care  of  you  ?  Where  does  he  keep  you  ?  Do  you 
think,  now,  he  would  sell  you  out  to  me  at  a  fair  valuation  ? 
Perhaps  you  might  get  better  fodder  than  he  seems  to  have 
given  you." 

The  military  man  flared  out  at  this,  "You  are  a  liar,  sir,"  he 
ciied  in  all  his  inches. 


"WHO  CARE-    FOR   NOTHING   ALONE   IS   FREE."  75 

"Good  Lord!"  laughed  Vamner.  mockingly,  ''Have  you 
just  found  that  out  ?" 

White  continued,  bewildered  b\'  this  admission,  "And  I 
suspect  that  you  are  also  a  coward,    ir." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it !"  assented  Vamper,  airily;  "likewise  a 
scoundrel  and  a  villain,  a  four-footjd  reprobate,  and  a  pattern 
bed-quilt  with  the  measles,  .\nything  that  suits  !  Let  us 
specify  iniquities  !     Let  us  catalogue  !" 

The  lieutenant  looked  at  him  almost  with  alarm,  saying  in- 
wardly, "  I  don't  thank  Hawksley  for  sending  me  to  a  lunatic." 
He  thrust  the  envelope  silently  into  Vamper's  hand. 

Ishmael  raised  it  to  his  nose,  sniffed  at  it,  and  lowered  it 
with  a  disgusted  air.  Then  he  gingerl}'  ext'-acted  and  read 
the  letter.     It  concluded  as  follows  : 

"  No  doubt  you  will  consider  anything  involving  personal 
risk  a  relick  of  barbarism  not  to  be  countenanced  by  your 
example  ;  but  perhaps  your  valour  may  be  stimulated  by  the 
assurance  that  if  you  do  not  meet  me  this  afternoon  I  shall 
assuredly  shoot  you  down  on  sight — and  that  within  twenty- 
four  hours. 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  Very  respectfully, 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"Archer  Hawksley." 

It  is  due  to  the  captain  to  say  that  he  had  never  before  in- 
serted a  threat  in  a  request  for  "  satisfaction."  His  good  taste 
revolted  from  anything  like  compulsion  in  such  matters.  But 
the  present  document  (based  on  his  knowledge  of  Vamper) 
was  meant  rather  as  a  fair  warning  than  as  a  preliminary  to 
the  duello. 

Vamper  read  it  through  ;  and  then  looked  up,  showing  the 
decorous  face  of  a  gentleman  with  a  grievance. 

"And  vou  seriously  ask  me  to  meet  on  equal  terms  an 
illiterate  fellow  like  that  ?"  he  demanded,  with  a  touch  of 
querulous  indignation. 


^6  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

"  Illiterate  !"  exclaimed  the  matter-of-fact  lieutenant. 

"  Yes,"  pursued  Vamper,  in  the  manner  of  an  expounder, 
"  What  else  can  one  call  a  man  who  spells  relic  with  a  k  and 
valor  with  an  it?  Would  you  have  me  match  my  chivalry 
against  a  pretender  who  cannot  even  spell  honor  aright  ? — 
Perish  the  base  thought !" 

The  lieutenant  saw  that  he  was  laughed  at ;  but  felt  like 
ending  the  interview  on  any  terms. 

"Then  your  answer  is — 'No,'  "  suggested  he,  mildly. 

Vamper  drew  himself  up  with  a  mock  lordly  air,  and 
said — "  My  answer  is  that  whenever  Captain  Hawksley  learns 
enough  about  honor  or  valor  to  spell  it,  I  will  consider  any 
communication  which  he  may  make." 

Then  dropping  to  the  dejected  air  of  one  overwhelmed  by 
a  sudden  revelation  of  human  depravity,  he  added — 

"  Lord  bless  me,  the  fellow  would  spell  chivalry  with  an  sf 

Lieutenant  White  turned  his  back  on  Vamper  and  walked 
stiffly  away.  Ishmael  made  monkey  faces  after  him  for  half  a 
minute:  then  called  loudly — "  I  say!"  There  was  no  answer. 
He  called  again,  "(9  'oo,  White!"  Still  no  answer.  Then  he 
shouted  suddenly,  "There's  a  wasp  on  your  breeches." 

Even  military  dignity  was  not  proof  against  this  attack. 
The  lieutenant  leaped  in  something  very  like  a  panic  ;  and 
then  began  a  series  of  twistings,  slappings,  searchings,  and 
curvetings  which  infinitely  diverted  his  chief  spectator  and 
made  all  the  circus-loving  little  negroes  in  the  neighborhood 
yell  with  delight.  At  last  he  stopped,  and,  looking  back  at 
Vamper's  solemnly  sympathetic  face,  asked  fiercely:  "What 
do  you  mean? — you  lunatic  f' 

Vamper  replied,  as  if  calmly  summarizing  an  anecdote — 
"The  moral  of  which  is — '  never  believe  a  liar  ' !" 

The  lieutenant  cast  a  vindictive  and  scornful  glance  behind 
him,  and  walked  off  to  his  horse. 

Not  long  after  he  reappeared  before  his  principal,  who  sat 
decorously,  but  with  a  badly  bruised  face,  in  a  room  of  the 
Nodaway  Hotel. 


"WHO  CARES   FOR  NOTHING  ALONE  IS  FREE."  ^J 

"  I  wash  my  hands  of  the  affair,"  exclaimed  White,  excit- 
edly. "  I  never  was  so  bedeviled  in  my  life.  On  my  soul,  I 
believe  you  are  as  crazy  as  he  is.  I  never  heard  of  such 
conduct  befo'." 

"  Take  a  glass  of  whiskey  to  settle  your  nerves,"  sugge.sted 
Hawksley,  calmly,  though  inwardly  he  was  shaking  with  nat- 
ural human  amusement  over  the  discomfiture  of  his  friend. 

After  refreshment.  White  was  able  to  relate  his  woes. 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  he  refuses  to  receive  any  communica- 
tion that  isn't  spelled  to  suit  him.  He  says  you  must  sena 
him  a  letter  that  spells  relic  without  a  k.  Great  Heaven  !  was 
there  ever  such  a  reason  for  declining  a  challenge  ?" 

"  I'll  send  him  something  better  than  that,"  answered  Hawks- 
ley,  smiling  affably,  but  with  a  distortion  due  to  sore  muscles. 

"  You  wouldn't  shoot  a  lunatic  !"  protested  White. 

"  There's  more  method  in  his  madness  than  you  know  of 
May  I  borrow  your  horse?" 

"  Certainly." 

As  they  were  about  separating  on  the  outskirts  of  the  vil- 
lage a  few  minutes  later,  Hawksley,  feeling  that  he  had  not 
been  duly  sympathetic,  said  with  friendly  concern — 

"  I  am  exceedingly  sorry  that  your  kind  service  to  me 
proved  so  unpleasant  to  you." 

Then,  while  listening  to  the  other's  polite  reassuring  phrases, 
he  incidentally  drew  his  new  revolver  and  examined  its  loaded 
chambers  one  by  one.  This  shooting  at  a  man,  was,  after  all, 
different  from  target  practice.  There  was  far  more  need  to 
make  no  mistakes. 

He  rode  to  within  half  a  mile  of  Jessica's  home  ;  then  turned 
into  a  part  of  the  woods,  dismounted,  removed  his  saddle  and 
bridle,  and  tethered  his  horse  so  that  the  latter  could  feed  com- 
fortably. Secrecy  would  be  of  more  avail  than  open  approach, 
both  for  guarding  Jessica  and  for  his  other  purpose. 

He  drew  near  to  the  house  from  a  number  of  points  ;  under 
cover,  as  if  stalking  a  deer.  He  saw  Jessica  and  her  uncle  re- 
turn from  their  drive ;  he  saw  them  sit  down  together  to  their 


78 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


supper;  he  saw  Mammy  Charlotte  return  from  some  expe- 
dition and  go  up  with  Jessica  to  her  room,  evidently  as  a  guard  ; 
but  he  did  not  see  anything  of  Ishmael  Vamper.  He  conjec- 
tured, rightly,  that  the  latter  had  left  the  house  and  gone  into 
hiding,  but  this  was  only  a  further  reason  for  vigilance. 

Captain  Hawksley  resolved  not  to  relax  Ids  for  a  moment. 
As  the  darkness  settled  down,  he  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  house,  pacing  about  it  as  noiselessly  as  the  spectral  lady 
of  the  legend,  whom  he  half  fancied  at  times  that  he  could 
see  m  glimpses,  down  by  the  leaden  gleam  of  the  water. 
When  the  moon  rose,  he  took  post  under  the  linden  tree,, 
where  he  could  watch  his  lady  love's  darkened  windows,  and 
see  that  no  harm  came  near  her.  At  dawn  he  withdrew  to 
the  edge  of  the  woods.  Then  he  remembered  that  it  was 
the  day  of  rest. 

The  sun  rose;  breakfast  time  came  and  went;  the  great 
family  carriage  was  brought  round  to  the  steps;  Mr.  Arm- 
strong and  Jessica  descended  them  and  entered  it ;  far  away  a 
bell  was  sounding  dreamily.  "She  will  be  safe  in  church," 
thought  Hawksley. 

The  loss  of  food  and  sleep  had  told  upon  him  far  more  than 
in  his  campaigning  days.  He  did  not  feel  quite  sure  of  his 
aim  that  morning,  and  after  all  he  would  rather  not  shoot  the 
fellow  on  Sunday.  It  might  be  a  good  deed,  but  he  doubted 
whether  it  were  not  breaking  the  Sabbath.  So  he  saddled  hk 
horse  and  rode  sedately  back  to  Nodaway. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  I    CAN    CALL   SPIRITS." 

On  Saturday  afternoon,  after  Mammy  Charlotte  had  seen 
Jessica  and  Mr.  Armstrong  drive  away,  her  love  had  taken 
counsel  of  superstition,  and  the  latter  sent  her  to  ''old  Nance" 
of  the  Big  Cypresses. 

The  place  was  enough  to  raise  the  spirits  of  doubt  and 
dread,  if  no  others.  A  long  rib-like  bit  of  land  ran  down  be- 
tween a  narrow  inlet,  choked  with  broad-padded  water-plants, 
and  the  narrow  Stygian  river.  The  abnormal  and  funereal, 
yet  graceful  foliage  overhead  brought  about  a  premature  twi- 
light, which  had  its  dismal  elements  in  the  shadowy  fluted 
boles,  the  distorted  protuberant  knees,  the  weighted  vines  and 
less  definable  distant  shapes.  There  were  no  near  sounds, 
except  the  slow  flap  of  the  bittern  passing  down  the  stream, 
the  singing  and  croaking  of  the  frogs  which  already  scented 
evening,  and  now  and  then  the  startled  cry  of  the  black  duck, 
as  she  rose  from  the  shallow  water  to  -escape  some  fancied 
danger. 

The  negress  who  had  wisely  made  this  suggestive  spot  her 
home  belonged  to  a  class  not  wholly  unknown  even  in  our 
cities.  Like  the  Norseman  of  the  dark  ages,  the  African- 
American  sometimes  worships  alternately  the  new  god  and 
the  old.  However  confident  he  may  be  of  "saving  grace," 
there  is  always  a  chance  that  the  next  stress  of  weather  will 
strand  him  on  the  hidden  and  slowly  crumbling  reefs  of  fetich- 
ism.  Possibly  he  has  more  excuse  therefor  than  we  are  will- 
ing to  allow.    We  laugh  at  the  priests  and  victims  of  "  conj  ure" 


8o  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

in  their  frequently  recurring  police-court  adventures ;  yet, 
perhaps,  a  patient  sifting  might  find  in  their  pretensions  and 
experiences  something  worthy  of  study — some  hint  of  strange 
natural  secrets,  blundered  upon  long  ago,  and  traditionally 
preserved — some  indication  of  real  powers  which,  being  very 
unusual,  seem  unearthly. 

While  Charlotte  was  hovering  in  the  gloom,  half  minded  to 
return,  the  old  crone  whom  she  had  in  mind  stepped  out  so 
swiftly  from  behind  a  large  tree  that  she  brought  a  terrOx''  with 
her. 

"  Te  he!"  laughed  she.  ''Afeard,  is  ye?  'Feard  o'  ole 
Nance !    Why  chile,  /  won'  hurt  ye — 5 '  long  's yc  'Jiave yersclf!' 

This  qualification  did  not  help  Charlotte  to  rally  her  wits. 

The  uncanny  thing  went  on — 

"  I  know'd  ye  was  a  comin' ;  I  knou-'d  it  sho'  'nuff.  Need- 
n't tell  me  nufifin'.  I  done  got  ready  fo'  ye.  See  dem  conjure 
roots  ?  Tell  me  'bout  conjure  't  Cypress  Beach  !  Sho'  Char- 
lotte! — dere's  bigger  conjure  yere.  But  ye  mus'  pay  me, 
honey,  y'  hear  ? — old  Nance  mus'  live." 

This  preliminary  settled,  the  incantations  began.  Not  far 
behind  the  pile  of  conjuring  materials,  was  an  artfully  located 
pyre,  over  which  hung  a  clumsy  representative  of  the  tradi- 
tional witch  caldron,  with  crude  yet  effective  accessories.  She 
Lighted  the  fire,  and  thereafter  followed  great  parade  of  march- 
ing, chanting,  crooning,  and  ungainly  posturing.  As  the 
steam  rose  and  thickened,  she  tossed  one  after  another  of  her 
"conjure  roots"  and  magical  herbs  into  the  pot,  and  watched 
wreath  after  wreath  swell  into  vague  form  and  float  away. 
At  last  there  came  one  which  resembled  a  human  form.  As 
it  mounted  and  melted,  she  cried  in  delight — 

"  Dar  !  Dar  !  He's  gone  !  Bress  de  Lor' !  Ye  may  go 
home,  Charlotte,  soon's  ye  like.     Ye  won'  fin'  Jiiui  dere." 

"  But  won't  he  come  back  ?"  asked  Charlotte. 

"  No,  honey,  not  'f  ye  do  's  I  tell  ye.  Take  dis  yar  cypress 
stick  an'  measure  ofe  a  piece  's  long  's  Miss  Jessie's  foot- 
measure  ofe  on  her  foot  at  daylight,  d'ye  hear  ? — an'  bury  it 


"I  CAN  CALL  SPIRITS."  8 1 

deep,  chile — an'  he  won't  conic  bade  no  mo'  till  dat  stick's 
ilried  up — sho' !" 

On  returning  to  Cypress  Beach,  Mammy  Charlotte  was  not 
at  all  surprised  to  find  that  Vamper  had  departed  about  the 
time  of  the  mummery  under  the  Big'Cypresses.  She  had  no 
theory  in  the  matter  except  "conjure"  ;  and  perhaps  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  seek  for  a  better.  Equally  odd  coinci- 
dences happen  every  day. 

She  slept  in  Jessica's  chamber  that  night ;  her  turbanned 
presence,  dimly  realized,  making  the  jaded  girl  dream  on 
cheerily  amid  old  childish  trifles  and  pleasures.  Charlotte 
had  observed  her  overstrained,  sodden,  yet  alarmingly  expect- 
ant look  before  retiring — and  had  thought  of  the  bitter  coun- 
sel given  by  Job's  wife.  It  was  the  look  of  a  soul  beyond 
dread,  as  beyond  hope;  a  soul  that  had  neither  a  life  nor  a 
God.  But  as  the  old  nurse  bent  over  the  sleeper  in  the  soft 
summer  dawn,  she  wept  silently,  praising  Him  for  sending 
His  angels  in  the  night  watches  to  make  her  darling's  face 
beautiful  again. 

Then  she  bared  the  soft,  shapely,  but  rather  plump  foot — 
still  showing  on  the  delicate-veined  skin  the  marks  of  its  evil 
tryst — and  made  most  devoutly  her  magical  measure  ;  all  the 
time  unconscious  that  from  the  one  root  of  religion  two  very 
different  growths  were  spreading  abroad  in  her  soul. 

After  breakfast  (with  some  sabbatical  twinges  of  conscience) 
she  cut  off  the  marked  portion  of  the  stick  ;  but  she  thought 
it  safer  to  defer  the  burial  until  Jessica  had  actually  set  off  for 
church.  Her  search  for  a  satisfactory  .spot  was  not  immedi- 
ately successful.  In  one  spot  she  found  the  ground  too 
hard;  in  another,  too  liable  to  tillage;  in  a  third,  her  pro- 
ceedings were  more  open  to  espial;  in  a  fourth,  there  was 
great  danger  from  rooting  swine.  Thus  her  quest  came  to 
resemble  that  of  Judas  Iscariot's  soul  in  the  ballad,  as  it  \ainly 
sought  a  place  to  cast  its  grotesque  burden,  abhorred  of  all 
the  elements. 

At  last  she  strayed  off  to  the  woods  beyond  the  road,  and 
7 


82  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

bestowed  her  burden  beneath  the  roots  of  a  ragged  towering 
sycamore.  It  was  a  very  safe  and  secret  nook  ;  and  she  felt 
vastly  confident  in  her  newly-acquired  supernatural  aid.  She 
argued  that  there  would  be  no  danger  in  going  to  her  own 
little  church,  then  just  "taking  in,"  to  thank  the  Lord  and 
"  shout"  mildly. 

But  Jessica  had  not  gone  to  Nodaway.  Before  riding  far^ 
a  deadly  faintness  had  come  over  her.  "  Uncle,  please  drive 
back,"  was  all  that  she  could  say. 

He  did  so,  wondering. 

"  Don't  you  feel  vvell,  my  dear  ?  Shall  I  remain  with  you  ?" 
he  asked,  as  they  drove  up  to  the  steps. 

She  shook  her  head  (in  a  strangely  mechanical  manner 
which  he  did  not  notice),  and  he  helped  her  into  the  house. 

Then  he  remembered  that  he  was  great  in  church  as  well 
as  in  State,  and  that  his  duties  as  warden  must  not  be 
neglected. 

"  Weil,  Jessie,  if  you   really  don't  require  my  assistance  ; 

but  pray  be  careful,  dear "  and  he   hurried   heavily  away 

with  an  uncertain  air. 


^^   or  TEDR 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

*'  ONE    TOUCH    TO     HER     HAND    AND     ONE    WORD     IN     HER     EAR." 

Jessica  had  sat  for  some  time  under  the  shadow  of  another 
will  before  she  had  heard  the  voice  or  saw  the  face  to  which 
it  belonged.  Yet  she  knew,  desolately,  that  they  must  be 
very  near. 

At  last  V^amper  sauntered  in  and  took  her  hand.  Perhaps 
it  was  only  the  pain  of  his  rough  grasp,  yet  The  Lady's  Ring 
seemed  to  burn  like  hot  metal. 

"  Come,  Jessica,"  said  he,  in  his  grotesque  way,  "  let  us 
elope!  let  us  abscond!  let  us  do  a  little  daylight  flitting!" 

She  went  with  him  like  one  walking  in  her  sleep.  At  the 
porch  Smiling  Susan  met  them  with  her  everlasting  grin.  At 
the  gate  they  passed  the  bronze  funereal  countenance  of  Noah. 

Jessica  climbed  unassisted  into  the  buggy  which  was 
waiting  there,  and  Vamper  followed  lightly.  He  drove  off 
in  a  rattling  pace,  crossing  the  river  at  the  first  ferry,  and 
penetrated  the  adjoining  county  of  Maryland.  He  was  at  no 
pains  to  conceal  their  movements,  taking  special  delight  in  the 
thought  that  he  could  inflict  open  shame  and  poignant  distress 
alike  on  the  man  who  was  seeking  his  life,  and  upon  him  who 
had  twice  saved  it. 

During  this  strange  drive  Jessica  never  spoke  nor  looked 
toward  him  except  when  compelled  by  his  will.  His  pleasure 
in  such  compulsion  was  enhanced  by  the  knowledge  that  her 
helpless  acquiescence  covered  what  would  be  loathing,  if  set 
free.  The  chief  drawback  to  his  enjoyment  was  the  necessitv'" 
of  watching  both  the  road  behind  and  the  recalcitrant  black 
horse,  to  whose  services  he  had  helped  himself.  Thus  far  the 
latter  had  gone  off  obligingly  in  a  lordly  and  most  rapid  stride, 

83 


84  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

but  who  could  tell  when  the  balky  demon  would  take  pos- 
session of  him. 

"Our  friend,  the  Keeaptain,"  suggested  Vamper,  pleasantly, 
"  is  lamenting  by  this  time.  Yea,  he  maketh  woe.  Poor 
Keeaptain!  But,  Jessica,  we  will  good-Samaritanize  him  ;  we 
will  send  him  a  lively  darkey  for  pistol  practice,  and  he  can 
go  on  spelling  his  honor  with  an  //.  Or  shall  I  send  him 
Jessica  when  her  Ishmael  wearies  of  home  seclusion  and 
groweth  pervasive  ?  Could  she  be  happy  without  her  Vamper? 
Could  she  joy?  Could  her  Mammy's  'honey'  disport  her- 
self?  Get  on,  you  brute  !" 

The  great  black  horse,  with  his  ears  thrown  back  and  his 
limbs  suddenly  petrified,  looked  as  though  he  would  be 
delighted  to  return  the  compliment  with  well-shod  emphasis. 
Vamper  might  be  pardoned  for  fancying  him  possessed  by  a 
hostile  intelligence,  willing  to  humor  his  rider  just  far  enough 
to  thwart  beyond  recovery. 

All  around  them  now  were  evidences  of  rural  thrift — clean 
fence-rows,  perfectly  ordered  fields,  sleek  cattle,  and  shady, 
antique  farmhouses.  Just  in  front,  where  the  road  turned,  was 
a  plain  Quaker  meeting-house,  which  showed  the  struggle  of 
the  preservative  instincts  of  the  people  against  a  hundred  and 
fifty  not  easily  baffled  years.  Its  site  was  still  held  under  the 
original  royal  grant,  and  its  worshippers  had  changed  very  lit- 
tle since  the  primitive  days  of  their  faith.  They  were  at  prayer 
now,  in  perfect  silence,  which  perhaps  accounted  for  Negro's 
suspicion  and  repugnance.  He  had  rarely  travelled  in  this 
direction  ;  and  a  religion  which  neither  shouted  nor  chanted 
may  well  have  seemed  to  him  something  abnormal — some- 
thing not  lightly  to  be  approached  on  a  Sunday  afternoon. 

Vamper  grew  more  and  more  wrathful.  Words,  however 
grossly  spiced,  had  simply  no  effect.  The  brute  would  cer- 
tainly cause  his  capture — kis  capture,  at  a  Quaker  meeting  ! 
At  last,  in  desperation,  he  snatched  up  the  whip,  and  cut 
fiercely. 

Negro  stood  for  an  instant  quivering  in  astonishment,  then 


ONE  TOUCH   TO   HER    HAND. 


85 


rallied  and  sent  his  heels  flying  against  the  dash-board  in 
rapid  succession,  while  Vamper,  with  preternatural  gesticula- 
tion and  objurgation,  laid  on  the  lash  harder  and  harder. 
Then  the  horse  leaped  forward  in  a  run.  By  this  time  the 
noise  had  drawn  several  grizzled  elders  to  the  door,  and  one 
of  them  received  a  fair  though  sufficiently  solid  projection  , 
Jessica  being  on  the  outside  as  the  buggy  turned,  was  shot 
into  his  arms  in  obedience  to  the  law  of  tangents.  Some 
seconds  elapsed  before  the  confusion  of  disordered  feminine 
belongings  and  broad-brimmed  male  demureness  was  re- 
solved into  its  proper  elements. 

Meanwhile  Vamper  was  fully  occupied  with  holding  his 
own  seat  and  avoiding  fence  posts.  Luckily  for  him  the  rush 
did  not  last.  The  stationary  tendency  returned  before  they 
had  gone  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Nothing  better  then  occurred 
to  Vamper  than  to  walk  back  and  see  whether  his  captive 
was  too  much  crippled  to  be  worth  further  trouble. 

It  never  occurred  to  him  that  Jessica  could  have  any  voice 
in  the  matter  ;  but  people  do  change  sometimes,  and  their 
changes  are  not  always  explicable.  Perhaps  the  physical 
shock  of  being  flung  out  of  a  vehicle,  had  something  to  do 
with  it,  or  tlie  unfamiliar  surroundings  within  the  quaint, 
plain  building;  but,  whatever  the  cause,  as  the  kindly  Quaker 
women,  flocking  to  her  aid,  bore  her  within  the  door,  she 
wept  copiously — for  the  first  time  since  her  troubles  began. 
They  were  delicious  tears,  for  they  seemed  like  a  return  to 
human  life.  One  of  the  Quaker  women  seated  near  her  con- 
siderately whispered,  "  Thy  friend  is  unhurt."  This  made  lit- 
tle impression  on  her.  A  happy  hush  seemed  to  deepen  and 
deepen  all  around,  till  at  last  a  seer-like  old  man  with  white 
hair  rose  and  pronounced  the  words,  "  Whom  Christ  hath  set 
free."  She  remembered  that  the  gift  of  prophecy  was  one  of 
those  claimed  by  this  unworldly  sect.  She  ne\^cr  saw  the 
prophet  afterward,  and  perhaps  it  was  best  so.  His  text  had 
all  the  value  to  her  of  a  personal  revelation  and  promise  ;  but 
the   man   himself  might   have   proved  (on   week    days)  to  be 


86  CYPRESS  BEACH 

some  keen-bargaining  small  farmer,  with  few  sympathies  and 
a  niggardly  side  toward  his  household. 

A  minute  later  Vamper  came  also.  She  heard  at  her  ear 
his  mocking  whisper,  "  Let  us  pray,"  and  shrank  aside,  with- 
drawing her  hand,  which  he  had  tried  to  take.  Both  of  them 
glanced  at  it.  The  Lady's  Ring  was  gone.  Most  likely  it 
had  been  dislodged  in  the  scramble  at  the  door.  When  he 
summoned  her  half  aloud — "Come!"  she  seemed  to  detect  an 
undertone  of  hesitancy,  of  uncertainty,  in  his  voice,  as  if 
he  felt  that  his  power  over  her  had  slipped  from  him.  Yet 
the  trinket,  with  all  its  rarity  and  strangeness,  could  hardly 
have  been  to  him  what  it  was  to  her — a  mystic,  wonder- 
working legacy  of  long-buried  evil — a  symbol  so  charged 
with  the  tragic  thrill,  the  stifled  passion,  and  spell-bound  des- 
pair of  an  elder  day,  that  it  might  even  yet  burn  its  way  into 
the  human  heart  and  will. 

Whatever  the  cause,  Jessica  felt  him  waver,  and  found 
strength  to  command  in  a  whisper — "  Leave  me,  or  I  will  de- 
nounce you — instantly!" 

Vamper,  too  shrewd  to  lose  his  chance  of  escape,  walked 
to  the  door,  with  a  very  clear  sense  of  failure.  No  time  for 
meditation  was  left  him ;  already  a  well-known  horse  and 
rider  were  in  sight.  Many  a  man  of  less  courage,  well  armed, 
and  wrathful  as  he  was,  would  have  turned  at  bay;  but  the 
impulse  to  do  so  passed  almost  instantly  froai  his  mind,  the 
pleasure  of  killing  Hawksley  being  outvfeighed  by  the  cer- 
tainty of  some  physical  damage  to  himself.  The  calculation 
was  rapid,  but  conclusive. 

"Art  is  long,  and  time  is  fleeting,"  he  philosophized.  "  'I 
am  not  what  I  was,  my  visions  flit.'     Let  us  decamp." 

Thereupon  he  slipped  quietly  round  the  building,  and 
dashed  for  the  woods  at  an  astonishing  rate.  Early  the  next 
morning  he  was  seen  aboard  a  train  of  cars  hurrying  north- 
ward. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
"where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid?" 

After  Vamper  left  her,  Jessica  sank  forward  with  her  face 
between  her  hands,  and  remained  so  for  some  Httle  time,  no 
one  speaking  to  her.  Most  Hkely  the  Quaker  matrons  and 
maidens,  in  accordance  with  their  beautiful  belief,  thought 
her  agitation  due  to  the  silent  workings  of  "the  spirit."  How 
far  were  they  wrong?  She  was  looking  backward  into  a 
black  pit;  then  forward  into  the  life  and  light  of  freedom. 

A  slight  rustle  showed  that  the  meeting  was  breaking  up. 
She  rose  and  passed  out  decorously  with  the  rest.  As  she 
reached  the  door,  Captain  Hawksley  rode  up,  leading  back  the 
horse  and  buggy  which  Vamper  had  carried  off  from  Cypress 
Beach.  She  noticed  that  he  looked  with  keen  scrutiny  from 
face  to  face  of  the  sober  crowd  about  her.  Then  his  expres- 
sion changed,  and  he  raised  his  hat  and  said — 

"  Miss  Armstrong,  your  uncle  desires  your  presence  as  soon 
as  possible  after  the  service.  He  is  not  well.  So  you  have 
discyarded  your  escort.  Well,  I  will  take  his  place,  with 
your  permission." 

As  they  drove  back  toward  Cypress  Beach,  he  conversed 
on  every  conceivable  topic  except  certain  recent  events  and 
their  probable  consequences.  This  studious  reticence,  how- 
ever, quite  failed  to  please  Jessica.  She  fancied  something 
almost  ostentatious  in  his  elaborate  make-believe — and  the 
more  so  because  something  within  her  soul  tended  frankly 
and  strongly  toward  him.  A  little  plain  speaking  on  his  part 
would  have  been  a  luxury,  even  if  overblunt  and  not  really 


88  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

more  kindly.     She  seemed  to  find  in  every  guarded  common- 
place a  distinct  reminder  of  what  he  did  not  say. 

As  they  reached  a  branch  road  turning  toward  the  river,  a 
steamboat  whistled  up  the  stream.  She  grasped  the  captain's 
arm,  with  a  sudden  wild  wish,  asking,  "  What  is  that?"  as  he 
reined  in  the  horse  at  her  bidding. 

"  That  is  the  Poomoke^,^  he  answered,  "  I  understand  that 
certain  parties  have  run  a  Sunday  excursion  from  Baltimore. 
It  is  a  detestable  innovation." 

"  Oh  !"  she  cried,  half  rising,  with  a  sudden  flash  in  cheeks 
and  eyes.     "  Woiit  you  put  me  on  board  ?" 

He  began  to  expostulate.  "Miss  Armstrong,  your  un- 
cle  " 

"Oh!  I  can't  face  him,  indeed  I  can't!  Don't  you  see  I 
can't?"  she  cried,  almost  in  a  terrified  tone,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

Then  he  spoke  out  manfully  after  his  peculiar  fashion,  but 
at  all  events  with  no  pretence,  good  or  bad. 

"  If  Mr.  Armstrong  should  disown  you,  Miss  Armstrong, 
or  even  show  you  unkyindness,  I  should  regyard  myself  as 
called  upon  to  prove  to  him  that  there  is  one  who  will  vindi- 
cate you  by  all  methods  usual  among  gentlemen." 

"Oh  no,  it's  not  that''  she  exclaimed,  dropping  her  hands, 
and  looking  quickly  up  at  him.  Then  her  eyes  drooped. 
"Do  you  think  I  have  no  sense  of  shame?"  she  asked,  with 
quiet  sadness. 

He  saw  that  remonstrance  was  useless.  "  I  will  ofo  with 
you  to  Washington,"  said  he. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  she  began,  with  doubt,  if  not  denial, 
in  her  voice. 

Hawksley  interrupted  her  with  unusual  brusqueness.  "  Sup- 
pose lie  should  re-appear  at  one  of  the  lower  landings  ?" 

She  drew  a  labored  shuddering  breath,  and  replied:  "  You 
are  right.     I  trust  all  to  your  vigilance  and  judgment." 

Her  tone,  even  more  than  her  words,  brought  a  pleased 
look  to  his  face.     She  had  no  inclination  to  conceal    her  very 


"WHERE  ARE  YOU  GOING,  MY   PRETTY  MAID?"  8q 

great  gratitude  for  the  knightly  confiding  faith  which  wouirl 
not  lower  itself  to  doubt  or  esteem  her  less  precious  for  all 
that  made  against  her.  There  was  something  very  restful  in 
this  polished  marble  pillar  of  a  man — twisted,  it  may  be,  into 
foolscaps  and  gargoyles  in  the  remoter  corners,  but  withal  a 
thing  for  weak  arms  to  cling  to. 

When  she  found  herself  quite  safe  with  him  upon  the  boat 
(the  horses  and  vehicle  having  been  sent  back  by  a  safe  mes- 
senger), and  rapidly  leaving  behind  the  scene  of  her  humilia- 
tion and  peril,  her  native  mirthfulness  returned,  exaggerated 
a  little  b\'  the  vibration  of  nerves  just  relieved  from  most  ab- 
normal tension.  She  made  free  with  topics  which  both  her 
heart  and  head  told  her  were  no  fit  subjects  for  laughter;  even 
jesting  about  her  good  uncle's  astonishment  when  he  should 
o-et  her  letter  informing;  him  of  her  whereabouts. 

"  It  will  be  sorry  business  for  me,"  answered  the  captain,  a 
little  shocked,  but  doing  his  best  to  fall  in  with  her  mood. 
"  No  doubt  he  and  everybody  will  regyard  me  as  the  sole 
culprit,  the  great  original  eloper.  Miss  Armstrong,  you  have 
destroyed  my  reputation." 

The  captain  was  not  often  fortunate  in  his  jocularity.  This 
time  the  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  before  he  felt 
their  sinister  import,  and  emphasized  it  by  sJwwing  that  he 
felt  it.  A  dark  vision  seemed  to  pass  momentarily  before 
Jessica's  face,  and  she  glanced  at  the  finger  which  yet  bore 
the  faint  impress  of  the  ring. 

Hawksley's  wrath  passed  readily  (as  it  was  prone  to  do) 
from  himself  to  a  more  hateful  offender.  He  muttered  mood- 
ily- 

"  I  should  like  to  have  that  fellow  for  a  field  hand  on  a 
good  out-of-the-way  plantation." 

Jessica  caught  his  words.  Looking  out  over  the  sunset- 
gloried  waters,  she  exclaimed  — 

"  Pray  don't  let  me  hear  any  more  about  slavery.  It  is 
gone,  gone,  gone !'' 


-go 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


There  was  an  exultation  in  the  last  word  (she  was  thinking 
chiefly  of  herself)  which  made  him  open  his  eyes  and  doubt 
his  ears. 

"  Miss  Armstrong,"  he  began,  didactically,  "slavery -" 

She  turned  toward  him  with  her  old  childish  imperative- 
ness, and  laid  her  hand  caressingly  on  his  arm,  saying — 

''There,  there,  captain,  I've  heard  3\\  those  praises." 

She  threw  her  head  back  and  laughed  softly  but  merrily  at 
liis  discomfiture  and  bewilderment;  then  stopped  and  said, 
musically,  with  her  head  held  archly  aslant,  "Jessica  will  have 
none  of  them." 

The  captain  was  too  pleased  by  this  revival  of  her  kitten- 
like playfulness  and  waywardness,  even  to  seem  vexed  at  her 
singular  change  of  views. 

After  that  they  sat  on  the  deck  in  the  twilight  and  the 
starlight,  while  the  neighboring  groups  of  rather  over-gay 
excursionists  gradually  settled  into  something  less  noisy  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  hour  and  the  scene.  Jessica  looked 
with  friendly  interest  at  the  flirting  city  lads  and  lasses  of  the 
plainer  sort,  the  tired  artizans  and  their  wives  taking  a  very 
thorough  rest,  the  sick  children  already  brightened  into  con- 
valescence by  a  few  ungodly  whiffs  of  salt  air  and  sabbath- 
breaking. 

Her  companion  could  not  quite  sympathize  with  this  feed- 
ing. Such  practices  were  quite  contrary  to  his  Christianity, 
and  such  surroundings  were  never  welcome.  In  the-  present 
instance  he  certainly  had  some  just  grounds  for  dissatisfaction. 
How  could  he  prosecute  his  suit  (though  with  everything  else 
tantalizingly  in  his  favor),  when  on  his  right  hand,  not  far  away, 
an  impassioned  dry-goods  clerk  was  whispering  out  his  soul 
to  his  shop-tending  dulcinea,  while  on  the  left  a  Teutonic 
grocer  was  making  beery  gestures  in  the  direction  of  his 
heart?  Captain  Hawksley  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  his 
chivalric  devotion ;  and  wisely  concluded  to  keep  it  out  of 
range  of  ridicule. 


"WHERE  ARE  YOU   GOING,  I\IY   PRETTY   MAID?"  9  I 

However  th.varted,  he  found  it  very  pleasant  to  be  her  sole 
protector,  to  talk  with  her  hour  by  hour  in  the  early  nifrht,  and 
to  draw  assurance  from  her  denieaior,  her  tones,  cv'cn  her 
playful-earnest  rebuke,  that  he  had  really  awakened  some  in- 
terest in  her  heart.  Long  after  she  had  gone  below,  he  sat 
there  thinking  over  these  things  alone.  He  would  have  been 
even  better  pleased  if  she  had  not  shown  such  a  sudden 
spirit  of  revolt  against  some  of  the  good  old  traditions.  But 
he  set  this  down  to  some  faint,  lingering  influence  of  Vamper; 
a  slightly  derogatory  breath-film  on  the  glass,  soon  to  pass 
away. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

"  SWEET    DAY — SO    CALM,    SO    BRIGHT." 

Even  in  our  young  country  almost  ev^ery  city  can  show  its 
imperfectly  assimilated  fragments  of  an  earlier  era.  To  call 
them  antique  would  sound  a  little  absurd,  but  they  are  often 
at  least  sufficiently  out  of  fashion  to  seem  out  of  our  modern 
world  also. 

Thus  going  southward  from  the  Capitol,  past  the  massive 
undermined  walls  of  Duddington  Manor  and  the  sarcophagi 
of  masonry  over  the  old  Carroll  springs — haunted  in  summer 
evenings  by  dusky  loiterers  and  water  drawers,  with  ancestral 
reminiscences  of  the  desert  in  the  poise  of  their  head-borne 
burdens — you  may  chance  to  find  yourself  in  the  Washington 
of  Jefferson's  time.  For  two  or  three  squares  nothing  is  re- 
cent. You  note  the  pillared  frame  buildings  with  their  low 
porch  roofs  and  patches  of  yellow  moss;  the  broad,  heavy 
fronts  of  the  brick  houses  with  knockers  on  the  doors  which 
are  not  restorations  or  imitations;  the  quaint  outlines  of  mul- 
lioned  window  and  sill ;  the  pump  standing  artlessly  here  and 
there ;  the  great  width  of  sidewalk,  with  its  double  row  of 
shade-trees. 

One  of  these  commodious,  though  unpretending,  old  houses 
had  been  Jessica's  home  during  many  happy  seasons  and 
some  sorrowful  ones  indeed  she  could  remember  no  other. 
She  returned  to  it — still  her  property — with  a  quiet  sense  of 
comfort  and  rejoicing,  like  a  frightened  and  weary  child  bury- 
ing her  face  in  her  mother's  lap. 


"SWEET   DAY-SO  CALM,   SO  BRIGHT."  93 

She  found  it  right  pleasant  to  be  greeted  by  the  famih'ar 
sights  and  sounds,  and  yet  this  very  sameness  made  them 
seem  almost  unreal.  Stranger  still  was  the  garrulous  ques- 
tioning of  thq  servants  as  to  what  had  brought  her  back  so 
SOON.  Between  the  incidents  of  her  hopeful  departure  and  the 
present  there  stretched  an  interminable  perspective,  of  a  kind 
which  even  Memory  fled  from  with  shut  eyes.  How  could 
she  measure  days  with  them  ? 

The  negroes,  with  loyal  quickness  of  apprehension,  saw 
that  something  was  wrong,  and  turned  to  more  serviceable 
proceedings.  They  did  not  for  a  moment  suspect  anything 
discreditable  to  herself;  but  said  among  themselves  that  she 
had  doubtless  had  some  disagreement  (not  pleasant  to  ex- 
plain) with  her  kin  beyond  the   bay. 

Her  neighbors  were  not  at  all  troublesome,  for  she  had 
never  made  many  friends  in  that  quiet  part  of  the  city ;  and 
their  conjectures  as  to  her  plans  and  prospects  had  a  com- 
fortable midsummer  languor.  The  sleepy  air  about  her 
scarcely  gave  even  the  faintest  rustle  of  awakening  gossip  ; 
so  that  she  often  seemed  to  fed  the  mantle  of  silence  which 
had  fallen  about  her  like  the  invisible  veils  of  Eastern  story. 
Once  she  found  herself  dreamily  wondering  whether  the  old- 
time  Lady  of  the  Ring  were  more  secluded  from  the  world 
she  had  left. 

Meanwhile  Captain  Hawkesly  was  troubled  by  the  thought 
that  he  was  suppressing  what  her  uncle  ought  to  know.  Al- 
most e\'ery  day,  for  he  never  left  her  long  unguarded,  he  be- 
sought her  to  write  or  let  him  w^rite,  but  somehow  nothing 
came  of  it.  In  truth,  she  could  not  keep  quite  beyond  her 
mental  reach  the  knowledge  that  all  Accomac  was  alive  with 
flashes  of  ire  and  blasts  of  blame.  Here  in  this  little  haven 
she  could  rock  serenely,  resting  her  still  quavering  nerves 
amid  placid  surroundings.  She  could  not  let  in  all  that 
turmoil  just  yet — no,  not  even  to  relieve  her  uncle's  unques- 
tionable distress.  But  this  last  thought  always  transferred  a 
portion  of  the  distress  to  herself 


94 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


This  delay  made  life  very  pleasant  for  the  captain.  With 
all  his  honorable  tribulation,  he  would  have  been  more  than 
human  if  he  had  not  at  heart  rejoiced  at  being  secluded  with 
the  woman  he  loved.  There  was  a  power  not  to  be  gainsaid 
in  the  light  touch  of  her  hand,  and  the  gentle,  half-playful 
shake  of  her  head  while  she  asserted  in  the  most  winning  of 
childlike  tones  Jessica's  right  to  regulate  her  own  affairs. 
Sometimes  she  would  baffle  his  advances  with  sly  coquetry 
and  demurely  fail  to  understand  them ;  yet  at  others  she  would 
reveal  accidentally  (at  least  it  seemed  so)  her  sense  that  they 
were  likely  to  have  a  future  in  common. 

They  lived  much  in  the  open  air  at  this  time,  avoiding, 
however,  all  spots  where  acquaintances,  with  their  surprises 
and  surmises,  might  probably  lie  in  wait.  Many  of  their 
hours  were  spent  upon  the  Anacostia  River  where  they  were 
effectually  hidden  from  the  more  fashionable  part  of  the  city, 
or  in  rambling  through  its  bordering  woodlands.  Often,  too, 
they  explored  the  quaint  nooks  near  her  hom.e  in  the  pleasant 
time  after  sunset  when  people  come  out  to  sit  before  their 
houses  and  old  cronies  do  their  gossiping.  It  was  even  more 
charming  to  lean  over  the  bridge  and  watch  the  struggling 
water  ebb  away  from  the  piers  and  spread  slowly  \vith  a 
saffron-tinted  gleam  into  the  last  rays  of  the  sun.  But  nothing 
was  so  delightful  as  to  sit  side  by  side  in  the  old  parlor,  after 
one  of  their  excursions,  arranging  Jessica's  floral  spoils,  and 
sometimes  forgetting  all  about  them  in  more  engrossing  con- 
verse. 

Captain  Plawksley  could  not  sufficiently  admire  Jessica's 
variety  of  moods.  In  proportion  as  she  lost  sight  of  recent 
distressing  events  and  blossomed  into  her  own  bright  self 
again,  every  phase  grew  richer  and  more  vivid.  Now  it  was 
the  laughing,  butterfly-chasing  child,  a  very  romp  but  for  her 
exquisite  grace ;  now  the  maiden,  listening  and  trustful, 
mingling  half-awakened  affection  with  virgin  reserve;  now  the 
mature  woman,  considering,  weighing,  discussing,  deferent  to 
his    greater  experience,  yet    tempering  with  good    sense   his 


SWEET   l)AY-SO  CALM.  SO   BRIGHT." 


95 


more  fantastic  hopes  ;  now  the  pit\'ini^  anc^el  who  bent  in  spirit 
over  all  the  sufferini^  and  oppressed,  and  refused  to  beh'eve  in 
any  past  cruelty  or  undue  sternness  of  his  own.  At  first  he 
chafed  a  little  at  some  of  these  latter  sentiments  ;  but  she 
tempered  them  with  such  flattering  warmth  and  gentleness 
that  he  felt  himself  greatl)'  blessed  to  be  allowed  to  love  her 
more  and  more.  All  in  all,  this  dream-courtship  by  the 
Anacostia  was  an  episode  not  to  be  looked  back  upon  with- 
out that  feeling  of  mingled  sadness  and  sweetness  which 
attends  the  death  of  a  midsummer  day. 

But  Jessica  was  not  in  all  respects  precisely  the  same  Jessica 
as  of  old.  She  had  lost  almost  wholly  her  over-estimate  of 
the  merely  artificial  j^art  of  life.  She  had  gained  an  aversion, 
which  was  more  than  a\-ersion  to  all  false  shows  and  hollow- 
ness.  A  sense  of  the  hideousness  of  oppression  and  of  moral 
evil  seemed  to  have  been  branded,  as  by  hot  iron,  into  her 
soul. 

These  changes  might  be  only  temporary,  but  there  were  some 
others  which  must  be  so — or  there  would  be  danger  in  them. 
Now  and  then  a  sudden  silence  would  come  over  her  like  a 
shadowy  wing.  Sometimes,  at  a  chance  allusion,  or  even  when 
no  one  spoke,  she  would  start  with  a  look  of  agony  and  appeal, 
or  a  furtiv^e,  shivering  glance  into  empty  air.  Then  out  of  its 
decorously  curtained  niches  in  the  deeper  shadows  of  Captain 
Hawksley's  soul  would  stalk  a  figure  which  Ishmael  Vamper 
would  do  well  to  shun.  Indeed,  to  do  him  justice,  he  would 
have  shunned  it  had  he  once  looked  into  that  heart  as  we  look 
into  it  now.  He  could  not  then  have  been  bribed  to  visit 
Cypress  Beach  by  a  world  full  of  piquant  possibilities.  He 
held  the  keys  to  many  unamiable  endowments,  such  as  malig- 
nity for  the  pleasure  of  malignity,  vengeance  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  vengeance,  the  love  of  wreck  and  ruin  for  the  rare 
delight  in  them  ;  but  neither  the  logical  nor  the  fantastic  ele- 
ments of  his  mind  enabled  him  to  conceive  of  a  set  destructive 
purpose  unconnected  with  any  idea  of  gratification,  at  once  a 
fanaticism  and  a  duty,  unappeasable,  immitigable,  inevitable — 
s^rim  as  a  law  of  nature. 


(j6  CYPRESS    BEACH. 

One  day  Jessica  and  Captain  Hawksley  were  returning 
from  a  boating  excursion  ;  he  at  the  oars,  she  seated  in  the 
stern.  The  sun,  sinking  behind  the  city,  threw  the  nearer 
buildings  into  irregular  prominence,  and  sprinkled  bits  of  in- 
candescent metal  on  the  house  fronts  of  the  opposite  bank. 
Their  voices  grew  quieter  in  the  settling  hush  of  twilight; 
then  ceased  altogether.  Jessica's  eyes  sought  the  marvellous 
beauty  of  the  west  in  yearning  and  adoration.  Hawksley's 
face  seemed  to  have  caught  the  same  expression,  reflected,  as 
he  gazed  upon  her. 

"  Jessie,"  said  he,  his  voice  hardly  rising  above  a  whisper  in 
the  stillness,  and  the  oars  trailing  idly. 

She  had  never  heard  him  address  her  in  that  way  before, 
and  there  was  a  little  gleam  of  surprise  in  her  face  as  it  turned 
toward  his — thoughtfully,  steadily  ;  but  the  tenderness  was 
there  still. 

"  Jessie,"  he  repeated  gently  and  slowly,  with  a  slight  thrill 
in  his  voice,  "the  day  is  passing  and  our  lives  are  passing 
likewise."  He  paused,  as  if  tremulous;  yet  less  in  real  doubt 
of  her  an.swer  to  what  he  was  about  to  say  than  a  hovering 
expectancy  tinged  with  joy  too  great  to  be  real.  She,  wait- 
ing with  no  aspect  of  denial,  leaned  a  little  aside,  one  hand 
rippling  the  water.  But  possibly  under  that  calm  surface  an 
even  fainter  ripple  of  sinister  association,  or  some  equally  im 
palpable  influence,  was  making  itself  felt. 

However  that  may  be,  there  came  a  sudden  change.  Her 
hand  left  the  water  and  clutched  the  gunwale  to  aid  her  in 
rising,  and  she  shuddered  toward  him,  speechless  like  an 
embodiment  of  horror.  Every  line  of  face  and  figure  ex- 
pressed a  strangled  shriek.  She  was  saved  from  falling 
overboard  only  by  his  arm    lightly  thrown  round  her. 

This  touch  seemed  to  cause  an  awakening;  for  her  face 
grew  at  once  more  natural  and  she  withdrew  to  her  seat, 
still  trembling  violently  and  compelling  a  laugh.  Hawksley 
asked  no  questions,  but  the  last  reflected  glint  of  sunset 
striking  his  eyes  made  them   like  a  panther's  by  torchlight. 


SWEET   DAY— SO  CALM,   SO   BRIGHT. 


97 


Before  long  she  reverted  to  the  subject,  exphiining  nerv- 
ously, *'  There  is  so  much  one  can't  account  for.  You  know 
what  people  say  when  you  shiver? — I  think  some  one  must 
have  been  walking  over  the  gra\'e  of  my  soul  that  time." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Armstrong,"  exclaimed  I  lawksley,  horror- 
stricken,  ''pray  dismiss  such  ghastly  fancies.  They  will  do 
you  no  good." 

"  Good  !"  she  laughed,  bitterly  ;  then,  suddenly  changing  as 
she  pointed  to  the  wharf,  she  exclaimed  in  delight,  "Mammy 
Charlotte  !     Oh,  do  make  haste  !" 

As  the  oars  urged  them  landward,  she  settled  down  cosily, 
purring  "  Dear  Mammee,"  with  an  affectionate  dwelling  on 
the  vowels  and  multiplication  of  syllables. 

As  the  boat  grazed  the  wharf  she  sprang  lightly  ashore, 
and  seized  and  wrung  both  of  Charlotte's  brown-yellow 
hands.  "Oh  you  are  as  good  as  gold,"  she  cried;  "Jessica 
says  so." 

Mammy  Charlotte's  response  was  tempered  with  a  certain 
reproachful  gravity. 

"  Bress  de  Lor',  Miss  Jessie,  I  knoivd  I'd  find  }-ou  here. 
Marse  Roger,  he  wouldn'  pay  no  'tention.  *  No,  Charlotte,' 
he  says,  '  I  know  she  couldn'  go  to  leave  me  dat  way.'  '  She's 
dead;  Jessica's  dead,'  he  keeps  a  sayin'.  Fus'  he  ramped,  an' 
he  subtended  de  whole  neighborhood;  an'  now  he  seems  to 
'a'  los'  all  his  enermation.  He  jess  sits  an'  looks  like  he 
didn'  know  nothin'.  Oh,  Miss  Jessie,  honey,  how  could  ye  go 
to  do  it?" 

Here  Captain  Hawksley,  coming  within  range,  was  favored 
with  her  nearest  possible  approach  to  a  vindictive  scowl. 
Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  turned  her  batteries  ob- 
liquely on  him. 

"Yes,  Miss  Jessie,  Marse  Roger  hasn'  heer'd  one  single 
word  from  ye,  an'  he  keeps  a  sayin' :  '  Dat  vampire  an'  dat 
gorilla  have  made  away  wid  her  atween  'em.'  Dat's  wat  he 
keeps  a  sayin',  Miss  Jessie." 

8 


98 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


"  Hush-h!"  said  Jessica,  in  a  distressed  tone.  Then,  seeing- 
that  this  failed  measurably  in  its  effect,  she  added,  drawing  up 
a  little,  "If  he  really  thought  so.  would  he  be  sitting  still  at 
Cypress  Beach  ?  Now,  now,  I  really  can't  have  this,  Char- 
lotte." 

"I  dunno.  Miss  Jessie,"  began  Charlotte,  in  reply  to  the 
young  mistress's  first  sentence,  with  the  respectful  yet  dog- 
matic obstinacy  of  her  race  and  station. 

But  Jessica  interrupted  her  with  "  There,  there,  don't  scold, 
Tell  me  something  nice.  I  know  you  must  have  some  pleas- 
ant news.  Mammy." 

There  was  something  almost  comically  wheedling  in  her 
affectionate  tone.  Charlotte's  features  condescended  to  relax; 
but  before  she  spoke  the  captain  suggested — 

"  Well,  Miss  Armstrong,  as  you  will  be  safely  gyarded 
home,  and  will  no  doubt  have  much  to  say  to  our  good  friend 
here,  perhaps " 

He  halted  irresolutely;  but  Jessica's  indecision  did  not 
tempt  him  to  continue  with  her.  Indeed,  she  was  for  the 
moment  too  much  engrossed  with  affairs  in  Accomac  to  think 
of  anything  else.  So  he  merely  added,  "  Good-bye,"  and  raised 
his  hat,  turning  away  with  a  rather  bitter  sense  of  the  world's 
inju'stice.  So  Mr.  Armstrong  had  at  last  concluded  him  to  be 
"  a  guerrilla  !"  Once  upon  a  time  his  patriotic  services  had 
been  honored  with  a  different  title.  What  galled  him  worst 
of  all  was  that  he  could  not  feel  wholly  free  from  blame.  He 
had  allowed  himself  to  drift  into  a  false  position,  and  must 
accept  the  consequences. 

His  preoccupation  did  not  prevent  him  from  hearing  Jessica 
utter  a  low,  breathless  exclamation.  Involuntarily  he  slackened 
his  pace  and  listened.  The  two  whom  he  had  left  were  hardly 
within  earshot;  but  Mammy  Charlotte  in  her  earnestness  had 
raised  her  voice  so  that  he  distinguished  the  words — '*  Yes,  I 
seen  him  over  yere  a  lookin'  out  on  de  water  :  an'  you  were- 
dere,  Miss  Jessie.     O  do  be  moughty  keerful." 


SWEET   DAY-SO  CALM,  SO   BRIGHT." 


99 


Captain  Hawkslcy  could  not  tloubt  to  whom  these  words 
referred,  and  they  talHcd  strangely  with  Jessica's  agitation  in 
the  boat.  He  wondered  if  it  could  be  more  than  a  coinci- 
dence. He  tried  to  quiet  himself  with  the  suggestion  that 
the  old  mulatto  might  have  mistaken  her  man.  But  the 
thought  so  weighed  on  his  mind,  that  at  last  he  wheeled 
about  and  marched  with  a  forbidding  brow  to  the  spot  which 
she  had  indicated.  One  or  two  loungers  of  whom  he  made 
inquiry  seemed  in  doubt  as  to  whether  they  had  or  had  not 
seen  a  person  answering  to  his  description  of  Vamper.  They 
showed,  however,  an  amiable  willingness  to  suppose  they  had 
seen  him  if  this  supposition  would  do  th  eir  questioner  any 
good.     It  was  plain  that  he  could  learn  nothing  reliable. 

Nevertheless  the  possibilities  thus  suggested,  as  well  as 
everything  wdiich  had  happened  since  sunset,  left  a  residuum 
of  gloom  in  his  mind  wdiich  harmonized  well  with  the  dark- 
ness deepening  round  him.  Stern  doubts  and  dire  anxieties 
made  themselves  felt  as  he  stood  gazing  over  the  glimmering 
w^aters  ;  but  it  was  not  in  them  to  turn  him  from  his  course. 
When  he  had  faced  them  all  down  unflinc  hing,  he  turned 
with  a  loyal  resolve  that,  come  good  or  come  evil,  Jessica 
should  have  the  protection  of  his  hand  and  his  name  against 
all  manner  of  harm  ;  that  is,  if  she  would  have  it,  for  he  did 
not  feel  altogether  confident. 

This  time  he  was  admitted  by  Mammy  Charlotte ;  the 
kindness  of  whose  manner  showed  that  Jessica's  explanation 
had  done  him  full  justice.  He  knew  that  her  influence,  not- 
withstanding, was  likely  to  be  adverse;  but  he  was  very  will- 
ing to  conciliate,  so  far  as  he  knew  how. 

"  Your  coming  was  a  surprise  to  us,  Charlotte,"  he  said, 
with  a  slight  tone  of  patronage;  "  but  it  shows  a  fidelity  which 
no  friend  of  Miss  Armstrong  can  fail  to  appreciate.  I  regyard 
it  as  very  creditable  to  you.  It  will  be  easy  to  set  matters 
right  now." 

Charlotte  shook  her  head — 


J  00  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

"  Mighty  hard,  sir,  I'm  afeard,  mighty  hard  !"  Then  she 
added,  conscientiously,  •'  If  Miss  Jessie'd  only  took  your 
advice,  sir,  about  writin' !" 

As  she  spoke,  she  ushered  him  into  the  parlor,  and  went 
after  her  young  mistress.  Presently  Jessica  entered  and 
walked  straight  up  to  him,  graceful  as  ever,  but  with  no 
buoyancy. 

"You  seem  weary,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "and  sad- 
dened," he  continued,  as  they  seated  themselves  on  the  sofa. 
>  "  How  can  I  help  it  ?"  she  a:?ked,  sorrowfully.  "  Do  you 
not  see  what  I  have  done  ?  The  trouble,  the  shame,  the  dis- 
tress !  If  I  had  listened  to  you  !  If  I  had  only  done  as  you 
advised  about  returning  to  Cypress  Beach  !" 

He  pressed  her  hand  respectfully,  and  replied  with  persua- 
sive firmness — 

"  Then  listen  to  me  now,  Miss  Armstrong.  If  you  have 
learned  to  regyard  me  as  a  safe  gyide  in  this  instance  try  me 
permanently.  I  shall  not  fail  you.  I  am  not  uttering  the 
sentimentalities  which  boys  offer  to  gyurls,  but  you  know 
well  my  affection — and — you  love  me,  Jessie,  is  it  not  so  ?" 

She  answered,  gently,  "  Yes,"  but  there  was  little  encour- 
agement in  the  word. 

He  looked  puzzled  and  baffled,  but  came  to  the  point  with 
the  inquiry — 

"  May  I  consider  myself  accepted  ?" 

She  hesitated,  struggling  inwardly  between  the  temptation 
to  take  the  easy  and  pleasant  path  of  assent,  and  the  urgent 
need  to  stop  short  and  utter  what  was  on  her  conscience, 
however  distressing  the  topic.  Mammy  Charlotte's  return 
from  Cypress  Beach  had  compelled  Jessica  to  open  her  eyes 
suddenly  and  very  widely  indeed  on  some  things  that  she 
had  been  striving  to  ignore.  At  last  she  raised  her  face,  pale 
but  resolute,  and  began  to  speak  in  an  enforced,  steady  voice. 
But  before  long  the  stir  of  feeling  broke  through  her  self-im- 
posed calm. 


"SWEET   DAY-SO  CALM,   SO   BRIGHT."  lOI 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  she  said,  "  that  )'oii  have  duly  consid- 
ered what  you  ask  for,  Captain  Hawksley.  How  can  I  be 
mean  enough  to  take  you  at  your  word,  when  you  do  not 
foresee  what  it  involves  ?  What  man  of  your  proud  tem- 
perament would  wish  for  a  wife  of  whom  every  gossip  will  be 
saying — what — you  well  know — if  you  think  a  moment — they 
are  saying  against  vie  ?  Worst  of  all,  about  whom  so  much 
that  is  humiliating  may  truly  be  said!  O  God  and  Father 
above,  how  can  You  permit  such  things  ?" 

"What!"  he  cried,  starting  in  horror  at  a  suspicion  which 
now  for  the  first  time  stirred  his  mind. 

She  read  it  as  clearly  as  if  written,  and,  conquering  her 
passionate  outburst,  replied  with  quiet  bitterness — 

"  Oh,  you  know  the  worst.  What  mercy  is  in  salvation  at 
the  eleventh  hour — tJiat  I  have  experienced.  But  is  it  noth- 
ing to  feel  that  one's  heart  and  soul  and  will  have  been  dese- 
crated and  bemired  by  that — that  creature's — infernal  power? 

that  even  his  loathsome  kisses "  she  half  drew  back  her 

her   hand,   looking   at    it    with   abhorrence,   and   shuddering: 
almost  as  she  had  shuddered  in  the  boat. 

"That  is  enough  !"  answered  Hawksley,  with  stern  empha- 
sis. "That  lies  between  him  and  me.  Now  as  you  obeyed 
him  through  compulsion,  obey  me  through  love.  Never  let 
that  subject  be  mentioned  again  between  us." 

Jessica  answered  very  humbly  and  thankfully — 

"It  shall  be  as  you  wish." 

"In  all  respects  ?" 

She  nodded. 

"Then  I  may  bring  the  ring  to-morrow?" 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  see  my  uncle  first?"  with  reviving 
archness. 

He  stifled  an  exclamation  under  the  merry  reproof  of  her 
look  ;  and  answered  chiefly  by  a  kiss  that  sent  the  roses  into 
her  cheeks.  But  as  he  was  departing,  an  hour  later,  he  felt 
called  upon  to  reply  in  words,  with  his  most  deferential 
manner  — 


102  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"Of  course,  miss  Armstrong,  your  uncle  shall  be  apprised 
without  delay  of  our  betrothal,  subject  to  his  consent." 

She  bowed  decorously,  but  with  a  little  demurely  mis- 
chievous sense  of  humor  in  so  much  elaboration  of  ceremony 
after  such  intimate  endearments.  Her  amusement  took 
another  turn,  when,  turning  her  eyes  from  the  closing  door, 
she  saw  Mammy  Charlotte  pass  in  another  direction  shaking 
her  head  with  an  expression  of  dire  misgiving.  A  certain 
amount  of  discontent  might  of  course  be  looked  for,  and 
Jessica  knew  her  retainer's  time-honored  way  of  manufac- 
turing omens  to  suit  any  unwelcome  occasion;  so  the  young 
lady  me'-ely  drew  her  arm-chair  to  an  open  window,  and,  in 
defiance  of  all  prognostics,  set  about  being  sedately  happy. 

More  than  once  before,  Jessica  had  watched  the  winking 
stars  in  this  way,  and  woven  her  plans  for  the  future;  but  she 
assured  herself  that  there  was  a  radical  difference  between  then 
and  now.  Obviously  she  was  not  in  a  flirtation  or  a  love 
affair,  but  in  love.  The  whole  current  of  her  being  was  set  in 
one  direction,  drawn  by  the  powerful  personality  of  her 
betrothed.  In  spite  of  some  acknowledged  foibles,  he  seemed 
to  her  the  very  man  of  men.  She  insisted  strenuously  that 
she  never  could  be  happy  without  him.  She  doubted  her 
worthiness  to  be  his  wife ;  but  vowed  that  she  would  at  least 
prove  a  devoted  one.  In  a  word,  that  evening's  event,  with 
its  extrication  from  all  difficulties,  and  assurance  of  his  con- 
genial lifelong  company  and  protection,  filled  her  soul  with  a 
joyous  glow  which  even  an  expert  might  well  mistake  for  an 
undying  affection. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

'*  OVER    THE    MOUNTAINS    OF    THE    MOON." 

While  Jessica  built  castles  in  the  air,  her  husband-elect  was 
walking  in  rather  stately  meditation  toward  the  heart  of  the 
city.  By  all  rules,  his  face  ought  to  have  illuminated  the 
darkness  ;  but  it  did  not.  He  was  ill  at  ease  in  his  victory. 
An  ominous  sensation,  almost  amounting  to  a  distinctly'  out- 
lined fancy,  haunted  his  mind,  that  something  had  happened, 
or  was  about  to  happen,  which  would  make  strongly  against 
his  hopes.  It  may  have  been  no  more  than  a  revulsion  from 
his  recent  ecstatic  delight ;  but  it  gained  upon  him  more  and 
more,  until  it  seemed  to  urge  him  from  the  thoroughfare  which 
he  had  thus  far  followed,  out  across  a  dreary  waste  of  sparsely 
settled  commons  which  stretched  to  the  westward. 

The  moon  rose  as  he  went  on,  and  made  that  unkempt  re- 
gion look  stranger  than  ever.  Away  to  the  right  towered 
airily  the  pale  pillared  wings  and  swelling  dome  of  the  Capi- 
tol. Far  to  the  left  a  shadowy  clump  of  foliage  marked  the 
Arsenal  grounds.  Just  before  him  a  broad  arch  of  masonry 
spanned  a  stream  which  issued  at  this  point  into  an  open 
channel.  Two  or  three  skeleton-masted  sloops  were  moored 
to  the  bank  not  far  below,  but  they  did  not  look  as  if  meant 
for  any  earthly  use  or  service.  He  walked  to  the  edge  of  the 
archway  and  peered  down  in  silence.  A  bat  or  two  passed  in 
beneath  him  to  unknown  depths.  All  that  he  could  see  was 
cavernous,  black,  suggestive  of  every  foulness.  He  remem- 
bered Coleridge's  "through  darksome  caverns  fathomless  to 


I04 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


man  down  to  a  sunless  sea;"  but  it  seemed  a  shame  to   link 
anything  poetical  even  in  thought  with  what  was  so  noisome. 

Hawksley  drew  back,  and  was  about  to  resume  his  walk, 
when  a  succession  of  yells  from  the  direction  of  the  Arsenal — 
distant,  but  coming  nearer  and  nearer — made  him  halt  and 
listen.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  conjecturing  their  cause. 
Even  his  recent  complete  absorption  in  the  dream-world 
of  his  dearest  emotional  interest,  had  not  quite  closed  his 
eyes  and  ears  to  the  greater  and  more  stirring  life  outside. 
In  favor  of  Jessica  and  her  image,  he  had  temporarily  abdi- 
cated his  post  as  political  observer,  critic,  and  prophet ;  but  in 
those  days  there  were  some  things  which  would  force  them- 
selves on  one's  notice  ev^en  when  not  observant.  He  knew 
that  the  contagion  of  disorder  had  spread  from  city  to  city 
until  wien  everywhere  dreaded  or  hoped  for  a  general  labor 
insurrection.  Every  day  brought  its  reports  of  tumultuous 
mobs,  interrupted  communications  and  destruction  of  prop- 
erty— and  the  tide  was  still  rising. 

Even  at  the  capital,  with  the  least  possible  material  to  work 
upon,  the  spirit  of  discord  made  itself  felt.  For  some  time  in 
the  busier  parts  of  the  city  there  had  been  considerable 
activity  among  that  class  of  strikers  whose  self-assertion 
freely  takes  the  form  of  preventing  other  men  from  working. 
Of  late,  an  astute  leader  had  introduced  new  and  sinister 
tactics,  gathering  the  previously  scattered  and  casual  bands 
into  a  single  permanent  body,  which  paraded  the  streets  under 
his  leadership  by  day,  and  bivouacked  on  the  commons  at 
night.  The  menace  of  their  presence  was  enough  to  extort 
supplies  of  all  kinds  from  the  more  timid  shopkeepers;  so  the 
strength  and  boastfulness  of  the  party  were  growing  daily. 
Some  said  the  same  of  their  leader's  designs;  but  as  yet  he 
had  attempted  nothing  very  audacious.  He  passed  for  the 
most  part  under  a  disreputable  nickname,  which  may  have 
been  chosen  to  flout  and  bemock  the  decency  of  the  com- 
munity: so  that  Hawksley,  not  actually  meeting  him,  had 
never  thought  of  him  as  Ishmael  Vamper.     But  now  the  old 


"OVER  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  THE  MOON."  IO5 

nurse's  narration  came  into  the  captain's  mind,  as  well  as  a 
certain  parallelism  of  traits  and  conduct;  so  he  decided 
grimly  enough,  that  it  was  best  to  wait.  Perhaps  he  might  be 
providentially  enabled  to  kill  his  enemy  without  breaking 
even  a  moral  law. 

Presently  he  heard  the  shouts  and  cries  again,  but  in  more 
angry  tones,  and  dim  figures  came  into  view.  Next  there 
were  pistol-shots  in  rapid  succession  and  other  sounds  of 
fight.  Then  a  knot  of  men  appeared,  scattering  as  they  ran 
toward  him,  pursued  by  a  much  larger  body.  One  or  two  of 
the  fugitives  passed  close  by  the  immovable  captain,  as  he 
stood,  revolver  in  hand,  searching  the  faces  behind — which 
now  halted  irresolutely — for  the  only  one  which  he  earnestly 
wished  to  spoil  by  a  bullet.  Most  of  those  faces  were  of  a 
dirty  bronze  or  bilious  yellow,  even  by  moonlight,  and  did 
not  ruffle  his  stern  vigilant  scorn  ;  but  his  eyes  opened  in 
almost  incredulous  amazement  and  abhorrence  as  he  saw 
among  them  the  fine,  clear  features  of  his  recent  associate, 
Robert  Chauncey.  Very  reckless  features  they  certainly 
were  just  then,  with  some  inner  exaltation  of  feeling  lighting 
up  that  recklessness,  and  a  sharp  personal  enmity  dashed 
through  it.  A  better  light  might  have  showed  a  suspicious 
flush  in  his  cheeks ;  but  as  it  was  you  could  plainly  see  a 
revolutionary  disorder  of  costume  and  manner  which  was 
more  significant  than  any  flush.  He  was  not  very  far  out  of 
harmony  with  his  surroundings  after  all. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"AND    THEN    HE    FALLS." 

In  truth  fortune  had  used  Robert  Chauncey  very  ill.  He 
had  returned  to  the  city  crestfallen  and  bitterly  jealous,  but 
with  a  determination  to  do  something — he  knew  not  what — 
something  to  dazzle  and  win  Jessica — something  signally 
heroic,  romantic,  noble.  But  one  disappointment  had  fol- 
lowed another,  and  turned  all  good  intentions  sadly  awry. 
The  clerkship  under  Government  so  long  filled  by  him 
faithfully  and  well  (all  the  better,  perhaps,  because  of  his 
easy,  undistracted  temper)  had  already  melted  away  from 
him  witli  most  astounding  facility.  During  his  very  brief 
and  fully  authorized  absence,  a  dependent  nephew  of  a  great 
senator  and  capitalist  had  been  quietly  and  respectably  pro- 
vided for  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  except  the  one  who 
was  dispossessed.  He  was  naturally  biassed  against  the 
change  :  and  indeed  declared  almost  offensively  that  it  was 
outrageous  to  discharge  an  official  merely  because  he  had  no 
uncle  who  was  a  legislative  railway  magnate. 

This  outburst  of  indignation  no  doubt  consoled  and  relieved 
hrm  i.n  some  degree  ;  but  its  value  was  wholly  subjective. 
The  chief  of  his  bureau  merely  expressed  his  regret  that 
everybody  could  not  be  retained  forever ;  adding,  more 
graciously,  that  for  his  own  part  he  would  bear  willing  testi- 
mony to  Mr.  Chauncey's  competency,  urbanity  and  fidelity, 
in  case  the  latter  should  care  to  apply  for  reinstatement  to  the 
head  of  the  Department,  with  whom  of  course  the  decision  of 
the  matter  would  rest.      Mis  own  recommendation,  however, 

106 


'AND   THKN    HK    FALLS." 


107 


was  to  treat  the  occurrence  a:;  a  biossing  in  disguise,  and 
not  to  give  up  for  a  paltry  regular  stipend  all  the  unlimited 
opportunities  opjn  to  a  young  man  in  our  growing  country. 
Here  he  smiled  with  an  air  of  self-  atisfied  and  encouraging 
wisdom  ;  but  (as  Chauncey  discovered  not  long  afterward 
without  surprise)  his  very  next  a  :t  was  to  send  a  brief  note  to 
the  powers  above  announcing  the  probable  visit  of  the  dis- 
charged man,  and  requesting  reiusal.  Then,  with  a  truly- 
official  stomach  and  digestion,  he  walked  to  a  neighboring 
restaurant  to  lunch  more  elaborately  than  usual  (by  the  aid 
of  a  very  recent  windfall);  and  as  he  returned  serenely,  he 
paused  at  a  broker's  office  for  a  dignified  inspection  of  the 
gold  and  stock  tape. 

But  the  case  had  a  side  which  was  not  at  all  humorous  to 
the  young  man  who  thus  beheld  his  livelihood  and  defined 
position  in  this  artificial  world  gliding  away  after  his  dearest 
love-prospects  like  the  withdrawn  scenes  of  a  panorama.  The 
magical  ease  with  which  such  assured  and  habitual  thinfjs 
had  been  transmuted  into  bodiless  and  elusive  vapor,  made 
it  all  seem  very  unreal.  He  had  at  first  a  curious  sensation 
of  drifting  at  the  sport  of  something  which  would  make  very 
light  of  any  will,  and  of  wondering  where  it  would  bear 
him  next.  He  was  rather  in  the  half-amused  attitude  of  a 
critical,  unconcerned  passenger  than  that  of  the  man  at  the 
helm.  But  this  could  not  last.  No  self-delusion  could  make 
the  loss  other  than  serious,  even  distressing. 

To  duly  understand  this,  one  must  take  the  standpoint  of 
the  Government  clerk  who  has  acquired  by  lapse  of  time  a 
placid,  nebulous  sense  of  permanenc}^  and  also  of  unfitness 
for  other  pursuits.  Robert  Chauncey  had  a  sort  of  half-form- 
ulated idea  (which  he  would  have  ridiculed  if  crudely  stated) 
that  his  office  belonged  to  him  ;  so  that  the  actual  wrong 
which  he  had  sustained  grew  prodigiously  in  his  fancy. 

Moreover,  like  most  of  his  tribe,  he  had  made  no  provision 
for  the  inevitable,  but  had  lived  from  month  to  month  as  if 
there  were  never  to  be  a  change.     All  of  his  available  funds 


I08  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

had  been  spent  during  his  recent  excursion  across  the  Chesa- 
peake, and  his  tailor  had  seemed  to  divine  the  precarious  state 
of  his  affairs  almost  before  it  existed.  His  pocket  pleaded 
pathetically  for  supplies,  but  whither  could  he  turn  for  them  ? 
His  friends  condoled  with  him  and  offered  good  advice,  which 
lacked  nothing  except  availability.  Much  of  it  related  to 
using  his  artistic  talents,  so  that  he  grew  presently  to  hate 
the  word  ''art."  He  could  do  fifty  things  pretty  cleverly,  but 
now  that  the  pinch  had  come  they  all  somehow  seemed  to  be 
things  which  no  o  e  was  willing  to  pay  for.  His  efforts  to 
secure  reinstatement  or  appointment  to  another  Go.ernment 
office  were  foredoomed  to  failure.  Indeed,  under  existing 
institutions  and  doctrines,  there  was  no  valid  reason  why  he 
shotild  be  appointed.  With  all  his  easy-going  politeness  and 
ready  deference,  he  had  never  fawned  or  truckled,  nor  in  his 
seclusion  from  politics  had  he  acquired  the  means  of  repaying 
patronage  by  partizanship ;  so  he  could  not  rely  on  the  advo- 
cacy of  any  one  of  the  little  great  men  of  the  day. 

As  for  any  private  employment  offering  light  duties  such  as 
he  had  been  accustomed  to,  or  even  those  heavier  ones  from 
which  the  delicately  nurtured  theoretical  democrat  recoils 
more  promptly  than  even  the  avowed  aristocrat — the  market 
was  overstocked.  He  had  hardly  formed  in  his  own  mind  the 
half-ironical  petition  for  work,  when  it  was  thrown  back  at 
him — the  direst  of  echoes — from  every  quarter  of  the  land. 
''Work!  work!  work!"  the  cry  went  up;  "Give  us  work  at 
living  wages  !"  and  the  fearful  emphasis  of  bloody  acts  was 
laid  again  and  again  upon  the  ominous  words. 

He  was  in  no  condition  to  analyse  or  discriminate.  Their 
cry  was  his  cry;  their  wrongs  were  his  wrongs;  their  foe  was 
his  foe.  Hitherto  his  sentimental  socialism  had  been  much 
like  that  of  the  French  nobles  who  adored  Rousseau,  and  dis- 
creetly ran  away  from  Marat  and  his  guillotine.  But  now, 
having  after  all  no  insuperable  barriers  of  class  or  fortune  be- 
tween him  and  the  insurgents,  this  sympathy  became  a  living 
force.     Every  chord  in   his  kindly  and  justice-loving   nature 


"AND   THEN   HE   FALLS."  IO9 

was  stirred  by  the  recital  of  manufacturers'  oppressive  treat- 
ment of  their  **  hands,"  the  heartlessness  and  cruelty  shown 
by  great  corporations,  and,  in  short,  the  great  array  of 
wrongs  which  poverty  and  weakness  have  always  suffered  at 
the  will  of  those  above  them.  He  had  leisure  enough  and 
to  spare  for  tuch  tales  now,  and  many  of  them,  true  and  false 
together,  naturally  flowed  into  his  ears.  Hitherto  he  had 
been  rather  favorably  disposed  toward  uniforms  and  their 
wearers,  who  undoubtedly  numbered  some  very  creditable 
dancers  and  small-talkers ;  but  now  he  found  himself  in  a 
mildly  virulent  way  passing  satirical  comments  on  the  Gov- 
ernment of  a  free  country  which  would  turn  Tts  hired  bayo- 
nets over  to  the  service  of  a  plutocracy.  He  took  to  haunt- 
ing divers  suburban,  resorts  where  the  beer  was  better  than 
the  political  economy,  and  exchanging  significant  jests  and 
wishes  with  the  idle  and  reckless  fellows  who  gathered  there. 
Sometimes  these  innuendoes  related  to  what  might  be  done 
without  going  very  far  from  home — idle,  foolish  vaporing  (for 
the  most  part)  of  those  who  had  nothing  at  stake  and  would, 
not  really  incur  any  personal  risk  ! 

But  in  Robert  Chaunce)^'s  mind  something  more  like  a 
serious  purpose  was  gradually  taking  shape.  Through  all 
his  other  troubles  he  still  felt  the  sting  of  Jessica's  contempt ; 
and  he  seemed  to  see  it  reflected  in  the  face  of  every  young 
lady  on  whom  he  called — for  to  the  last  he  kept  up  this 
habit.  When  a  man  has  an  assured  income  behind  him,  he 
may  safely  call  himself  a  trifler  with  an  airy  grace  ;  but  it 
is  no  joke  to  be  called  so  or  thought  so  by  others,  when  he  is 
out  of  heart  and  cash  and  credit.  His  charming  partners 
were  as  gracious  as  ever,  but  he  began  to  fear  that  they  did 
not  respect  him  very  highly  after  all ;  and  he  found  this  more 
galling  than  would  have  seemed  possible  a  few  weeks  before. 
He  felt  that  the  only  conceivable  way  of  setting  himself  right, 
even  in  his  own  eyes,  was  by  proving  that  he  had  forceful  and 
daring  traits.     This  might  not  win  Jessica,  who  was  sure  to 


I  lO  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

be  on  the  conservative  side,  but  it  would  compel  her  attention 
and  regard. 

On  the  evening  of  Mammy  Charlotte's  return  he  strolled 
away  from  one  of  the  threatful  suburban  gatherings  before 
mentioned  with  more  than  usual  bitterness  in  his  soul. 
An  hour  or  two  before  he  had  heard  with  seemingly  placid 
surprise  the  undoubted  fact  of  Jessica's  elopement  with 
Captain  Havvksley,  as  related  by  a  dear  feminine  friend,  who 
began  in  solemn  horror,  and  ended  giggling.  As  a  result 
his  words  had  been  less  guarded  than  usual,  and  he  had  given 
himself  free  rein  in  other  ways.  The  blood  was  hot  and 
wrathful  about  his  brain,  and  every  element  of  his  nature, 
good  or  bad,  conspired  to  make  him  absurdly  ripe  for 
mischief 

As  he  moved  along,  a  tumult  of  steps  came  up  behind,  an 
arm  was  passed  familiarly  through  his  own,  and  he  found 
himself  marching  at  the  head  of  a  tattered  procession.  He 
made  an  angry  motion  to  disengage  himself,  when  Vamper's 
voice  suggested  quizzically,  "  Let's  get  an  office." 

Chauncey  was  in  too  misty  a  mood  to  recall  either  past  ex- 
periences or  old  maxims.  Glass  houses  were  no  more  to  him 
than  the  discarded  civilities  which  he  so  long  had  worshipped. 
He  felt  the  need  of  a  little  incongruous  objurgation — if  only 
for  its  bizarre  novelty  and  freedom — so,  with  a  declamatory 
flourish  of  arms  and  voice,  he  shouted,  "  To  the  devil  with 
offices  and  office-holders — Robbers  of  the  people!" 

This,  his  first  speech  in  public,  was  greeted  with  tumultu- 
ous approval.  Thereupon  Vamper  turned  and  waved  his 
hand  backward  with  mock  grace,  saying,  '" BsJiold  the  people." 

Robert  Chauncey  beheld,  but  not  clearly  enough  to  take 
Vamper's  real  meaning.  The  only  face  which  impressed  him — 
like  a  gargoyle — was  that  of  Mammy  Charlotte's  son  John, 
who  had  followed  her  or  Vamper  to  a  place  which  could  well 
have  spared  him ;  and  even  in  its  distorted  savagery,  as  in  the 
vaguer  scarecrow  array  trooping  behind,  the  young  enthus- 
iast, doubly  intoxicated  by  wine  and  philanthropy,  could  see 


"AND   THEN    HE   FALLS."  '  III 

nothing  but  the  pitiable  effects  of  long-continued,  degrading- 
oppression.  He  called  aloud,  "  Oh  that  I  could  strike  one 
good  blow  in  your  cause,  men  and  brethren  !" 

"  Certainly,  strike  !  We  arc  strikers,"  commented  Vamper, 
encouragingly,  and  with  huge  enjoyment.  John  merely 
whooped. 

By  this  time  the  behavior  of  his  companions — or  was  it  only 
the  cool  night  air — began  to  make  Robert  Chauncey  less  ex- 
uberant in  utterance;  but  his  enthusiasm  still  ran  high.  He 
felt  that  he  was  going  to  do  battle  with  those  who  grind  the 
faces  of  the  poor.  Don  Quixote  on  the  way  to  the  wind- 
mills was  hardly  more  exhilarated.  Nevertheless,  Vamper's 
peculiar  oratory  would  certainly  have  drixen  him  from  the 
enterprise  if  in  a  normal  condition.  It  was  plentifully  inter- 
larded with  jeering  asides,  intended  for  Chauncey's  ear  only. 

"  Onward,  brave  men,  to  the  assured  victory  of  the  future! 
(And  carry  me  on  your  splay-backs,  will  you?)  We  are  en- 
gaged in  the  most  glorious  movement  of  modern  times 'for 
the  emancipation  of  the  human  race.  (By  the  Great  Moloch, 
I'd  like  to  buy  the  gang  for  shipment  to  Cuba.)  Let  us  urge 
on  the  revolution  with  ever  increasing  zeal.  (Yes,  revolve, 
revolve  to  the  devil.     Let's  get  an  office.)" 

"  You're  in  a  fair  way  to  do  that,"  suggested  Chauncey, 
ironically. 

"  Fairish!  '  Fair  is  foul  and  foul  is  fair,'  "  retorted  Ishmael, 
in  a  sing-song.  Suddenly  breaking  off,  he  looked  keenly  at 
his  companion,  and  said  with  an  inexpressibly  confidential 
writhe  of  the  lip — "  Let's  Shermanize." 

*'  What  ?  "  asked  Chauncey,  bewildered. 

"  Sherman  deals  out  Treasury  money,"  explained  the  other, 
with  dry  suggestiveness. 

"  Our  money  !  our  money  !  robbed  from  us  !"  shouted  the 
super-honest  John,  close  behind,  and  others  took  up  the  cry. 

Robert  Chauncey  opened  his  lips  to  protest,  when  a  thought 
stopped  his  breath.  Were  not  these  poor  creatures  right  after 
all  ?     Why  should  they  not  regain  b}'  force  of  arms  whatever 


112  CYPRE*<S    BEACH. 

had  been  taken  from  them  by  force  of  intellect,  organization, 
and  money  ?  Could  any  one  pretend  t'hat  distribution  had 
been  fair. and  honest,  when  these  men  went  in  rags  and  others 
were  revelling  in  all  luxury?  He  raised  himself  to  more  than 
his  usual  height :  the  hour  had  come. 

"  We  must  have  arms  first — there  they  are,"  he  cried,  point- 
ing to  the  Arsenal,  which  was  now  dimly  visible. 

Vamper  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  amusement,  and  plea-sure. 
He  had  detested  this  young  man  unspeakably  all  along,  and 
he  did  so  even  now  that  he  was  beginning  to  find  in  him  a 
well-spring  of  sarcastic  delight ;  but  all  the  same  it  was  a  god- 
send to  have  an  ally  who  was  so  ready  to  take  hard  knocks. 
For  his  own  part,  he  had  no  idea  of  being  at  all  inconsistent. 

He  exclaimed  just  loudly  enough  for  Chauncey  to  hear — 

*'  By  all  means !  Let  us  storm  !  let  us  mount  the  battle- 
ments !  let  us  burglarize  !" 

Then,  raising  his  voice,  he  exhorted  his  partizans  to  hasten 
to  a  memorable  and  glorious  victory. 

But  the  catastrophe  came  more  ignobly.  In  crossing  the 
commons  the  mob  had  swollen  and  grown  noisy,  while  hete- 
rogeneous weapons  were  freely  brandished.  A  knot  of  police- 
men who  had  been  following  for  some  time,  now  hastened  up, 
and  charged  them  with  scant  ceremony. 

But  the  odds  were  altogether  too  great.  Though  some  of 
the  negroes  scattered,  a  considerable  group  stood  firm',y 
around  their  leaders ;  and  the  others  soon  rallied  with  so 
much  outcry  and  turbulence  that  the  policemen  were  beaten 
back  faster  and  faster  till  their  retreat  ended  in  a  dead  run. 
Chauncey  had  kept  on  almost  involuntarily  with  the  pursuers  ; 
but  when  the  Tiber  (now  made  useful  as  a  large  sewer)  was 
nearly  reached,  his  sense  of  shame  and  absurdity  revolted 
against  this  phase  of  revolution. 

"  Hang  it!"  he  exclaimed,  slackening  his  pace,  "this  is  no 
good  thing.     I  am  not  a  beagle.     Let's  strike  for  the  Arsenal." 

"  Go  where  glory  waits  thee,"  chanted  Vamper. 

"  Dey  done  stop,"  said  John,  warily  doing  likewise,  as  he 


'AND  THEN   HE   FALLS." 


113 


saw  Captain   Hawkslcy,  revolver  in  hand,  critically  obicrvant 
on  the  crown  of  the  arch  ahead. 

**  Verily  !"  remarked  Vamper,  thoughtfully  shifting  his  po- 
sition so  as  to  get  behind  his  nearest  adherent.  '  O  my  pro- 
phetic soul,  an  ambuscade!  a  rally!     At  him,  John!" 

John  needed  little  incentive,  for  he  hated  with  a  deadly 
hatred  this  hard,  lordly  man,  who  plainly  regarded  him  as 
lower  than  any  dog ;  beside  he  was  wild  with  success.  He 
gave  a  sort  of  inaudible  growl,  and  rushed  head  foremost  up 
the  slope. 

Hawksley,  who  was  just  about  to  aim  at  Vamper's  astute 
head,  turned  a  little  with  a  look  of  vexation,  and  sent  two 
bullets  into  his  assailant.  The  first  brought  John  to  his 
knees ;  the  second  caught  him  as  he  staggered  up,  and  sent 
him  rolling  to  the  foot  of  the  mound  ;  for  the  revolver  was  a 
large  one  and  drove  its  weighty  bullets  with  the  force  of  a 
blow. 

Captain  Hawksley,  as  unconcerned  outwardly  as  inwardly, 
cocked  it  again,  and  peered  into  the  scattering  crowd  for 
Vamper.  The  latter  was  busy  loading;  but  he  discerned  and 
fully  appreciated  that  look. 

*'  Now,  Henry  of  Navarre,  an  oriflamme  !"  he  cried. 

But  there  was  not  the  shghtest  need  to  urge  Robert  Chaun- 
cey  forward.  In  the  redoubtable  statue-Hke  figure  before  him 
he  saw  personified  the  egotistical,  heartless  cruelty  which  he 
fancied  to  be  the  dominant  power  of  the  land  ;  and  he  recog- 
nized therein  his  successful  rival  also.  He  believed  that  this 
man  of  iron  was  backed  by  a  strong  force  of  ambuscaders. 
No  matter,  their  rout  would  be  the  first  victory  of  the  new 
revolution  ;  he  would  avenge  at  once  the  wrongs  of  himself, 
of  the  poor  wretch  writhing  there,  and  of  the  downtrodden 
human  race.  One  brilliant  dash,  and  no  one  could  doubt  his 
heroic  quality.  The  matter  in  hand  was  not  at  all  to  him  the 
dislodging  of  a  Virginia  retrogressionist  from  a  post  which 
nobody  really  wanted.  His  sensations  could  have  been  no 
9 


114 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


more  thrilling  had  he  been  about  to  dash  with  a  brigade  of 
similarly  infatuated  spirits  on  the  batteries  of  Balaclava. 

With  a  slight  sneer  at  Vamper's  wise  delay,  he  snatched 
the  pistol  from  the  latter's  hand,  and  sprang  lightly  up  along 
the  edge  of  the  arch.  His  knowledge  of  such  matters  was 
mainly  theoretical,  so  the  single  shot  that  he  fired  wh:<*e  still  in 
motion  went  wide  of  any  mark.  A  moment  Jater  the  unmov- 
ing  Hawksley  had  cooly  shot  him  through  the  body  not  far 
above  the  heart. 

Robert  Chauncey  let  his  weapon  fall,  clasped  his  hand  to 
his  side,  staggering,  and  with  the  low,  piteous  words,  "Oh, 
my  mother !"  pitched  headlong  over  the  coping  down  to  the 
black  waters  below.  In  that  supreme  moment,  not  a  tSiought 
of  Jessica  or  philanthropy,  the  smiles  of  smooth-necked  ladies 
or  the  applause  of  uproarious  men,  the  dainty  shows  or  the 
later  fevers  and  phantasms  of  life !  His  soul  turned  to  that 
long  overlaid  primal  instinct,  and  the  dear  one  now  so  far 
away. 

''After  all,  he  was  a  gyallant  gentleman,"  said  Captain 
Hawksley,  slowly,  with  a  strange  mixture  of  relief  and  regret. 
Then  pity  grew  on  him  for  the  foolish  young  life  which  had 
plunged  with  its  one  ruinous  aspiration  into  that  foul  black- 
ness ;  and  when  he  looked  abroad  again  for  Vamper,  to 
whose  account  he  laid  this  last  dire  evil  also,  there  was  a 
hungry  ferocity  in  his  eye  which  might  have  interfered  with 
his  aim.  But  Ishmael  had  not  trusted  to  this  or  to  anything 
e-xcept  flight.  Indeed,  the  whole  body  of  rioters,  appalled  by 
such  rapid  and  certain  execution,  had  scattered  beyond  range. 
A  random  shot  or  two  came  back  from  the  moonlit  distance. 
While  Hawksley  walked  away,  disregarding  them,  he  re- 
peated more  than  once  "A  very  gyallant  young  man." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


A    SINNERS    PARTING    SCENE. 


When  his  enemy  had  certainly  departed,  Ishmael  Vamper 
returned  to  see  how  his  follower,  John,  was  enjoying  a  bed  of 
earth.  He  had  not  meant  to  extend  his  beneficence  beyond 
this  ;  but  when  the  wounded  man  moaned  out  a  request  to  be 
carried  to  a  certain  house,  naming  street  and  number,  curiosity 
and  possibly  something  more  prompted  him  to  supervise  the 
transfer.  Whether  John  had  actually  traced  his  mother  back 
to  Jessica's  home  or  merely  uttered  the  words  which  memory 
supplied  to  delirium,  he  had  indicated  the  place  of  all  others 
where  Vamper  would  be  most  unwelcome. 

Beside,  Ishmael  Vamper  liked  this  Caliban  of  a  convict,  if 
it  could  be  possible  for  him  to  like  anybody.  He  had  never 
yet  found  anything  that  was  able  to  shock  this  partizan ;  and 
John's  brutal  cunning  made  him  an  appreciative  and  some- 
times suggestive  confidant.  Best  of  all,  John  made  no  pre- 
tensions to  any  sort  of  decency  or  principle. 

Accordingly  Vamper  called  a  few  of  his  men  together,  and 
improvised  a  sort  of  stretcher  whereon  the  wounded  wretch 
was  laid.  As  they  were  about  starting,  some  one  who  had 
not  seen  the  second  shooting  asked  about  ''  de  udder  white 
gen'luni." 

"  Gone  a-fishing,"  answered  Vamper,  pointing  significantly 
downward  with  a  fantastic  grimace  ;  but  the  laughter  was  less 
general  than  he  had  expected. 

Jessica,  after  her  long  reverie  by  the  window,  was  crossing 
the  hall  on  her  way  to  the  stairs  when  there  came  a  violent 


I  l6  CYPRESS  "BEACH. 

knocking  at  the  street  door,  and  a  call  of,  "  Open  fo'  de  Lord's 
sake !"  She  sprang  impulsively  to  the  door  and  opened  it, 
but  started  back  in  alarm  to  make  way  for  the  wearied  ne- 
groes, who  staggered  in  with  a  great  scuffling  of  feet,  bearing 
their  wounded  comrade.  The  rush  brought  Vamper  face  to 
face  with  her,  and  at  once  he  strove  to  take  her  .hand;  but 
appalled  as  she  was  at  this  ominous  arrival,  and  breathless 
with  the  struggle  between  dismay  and  dignity,  she  yet  was 
able  to  draw  back  out  of  reach,  demanding — 

"  Must  I  call  for  the  police  ?" 

Vamper  had  begun  to  sneer,  when  like  an  echo  he  heard 
outside  the  same  word,  and  the  clatter  of  hoofs  down  the  street. 
He  knew  that  a  squad  of  mounted  policemen  were  in  the  act 
of  dispersing  his  party.  His  only  chance  of  escape  was  by 
the  back  way.  With  a  single  fruitless  effort  to  snatch  a  kiss, 
he  sprang  away  and  hurried  down  the  hall,  pausing  at  the 
garden  door  to  call,  in  mimicry  of  reassurance — 

"  Bewail  not,  Jessica.     Of  a  surety,  beloved,  I  return." 

Jessica,  as  ever,  seemed  to  find  something  not  human  in  his 
varying  fantastical  uniqueness  in  taunting  and  troubling,  and 
the  grotesquely  distorted  quaintness  of  his  words.  But  as  she 
leaned  against  the  wall  shuddering  and  holding  her  heart,  she 
found  great  comfort  in  the  belief  that  his  power  to  terrify  and 
harm  was  vastly  different  from  what  it  had  been  in  that  past 
of  horrible  memory.  Probably  she  allowed  too  little  for 
changed  moods  and  surroundings ;  but  her  confidence  was  a 
guard  in  itself,  and  far  "more  important  than  the  accurate  dis- 
crimination of  its  causes.  It  mattered  little  that  her  fancy- 
played  superstitiously  with  the  coming  and  going  of  that 
ancestral  ring.  It  mattered  less  that  her  undue  susceptibility 
made  her  seem  to  hear  low  spirit  murmurings  of  "  Free ! 
Free !" 

Her  trance  was  broken  by  a  shriek  from  Mammy  Charlotte 
who  had  just  entered  the  hall. 

**0h,  oh,  oh!"  she  cried,  falling  on  her  knees  in  utter  self- 
abandonment  beside  her  son.     "  John,  John,  who  done  it  ? 


'A   SINNER'S    PARTING   SCP^NE. 


117 


Tell  me,  boy.     Yo' hear  ?     Tell  me  quick  !     Who  done  it? — 
hon',  who  done  it?" 

John  roused  a  little  at  this  frantic  adjuration;  and  Jessica 
was  coming  forward  to  insist  that  he  should  not  be  injured  by 
further  outcry,  when  the  weak  answer,  "  Cap'n  Hawksley," 
made  her  stop. 

Ciiarlotte  rose  w^ith  the  tragic  dignity  of  agony  upon  her, 
and  began — 
.    "Then  may  de  good  Lord  curse " 

"  Hush,  Charlotte  !  Oh  hush,  Mammy  !"  cried  Jessica, 
springing  forward  to  stifle  the  imprecation. 

"  Oh,  honey !"  exclaimed  Charlotte,  pitifully,  breaking  down  ; 
and  the  two  women  wept  side  by  side. 

But  they  soon  rallied  to  do  what  might  be  done  for  the 
stricken  man.  A  surgeon  was  at  once  sent  for  and  came 
promptly  ;  but  reported  that  John  must  die  in  a  few  hours, 
probably  before  morning.  Charlotte,  awed  and  terrified 
almost  past  sobbing,  re-entered  the  room  where  he  lay,  and. 
seating  herself  by  the  bed,  solemnly  admonished  him  that  the 
end  was  drawing  near. 

"I  knolvd  it!"  John  responded,  sulkily.  Then,  as  if  an- 
nouncing the  bitter  result  of  a  train  of  previous  thought — for 
even  he  could  think  as  he  faced  the  on- coming  of  the  great 
final  shadow — he  added,  "I  hain't  got  no  use  fo'  none  o'  ye." 

"  Oh,  John  !  John !  It's  vie,  John.  You  don't  mean  vie 
John  ?"  cried  his  mother,  in'perlocking  her  fingers  and  sway- 
ing from  side  to  side. 

His  first  reply  was  an  inarticulate  growl ;  but  presently  he 
uttered  more  distinctly,  as  if  soliloquizing,  "All  agin  me,  dead 
agin  me  !  Never  hain't  had  no  show  !"  Then,  turning  to  his 
mother,  l*e  demanded  savagely,  "  Why  didn'  )-o'  raise  me 
better?" 

"I  w^asn't  there,  John,"  answered  Charlotte,  weeping. 

"Why  not?"  he  pursued,  sharply,  though  he  mu^t  have 
known. 

Charlotte's  voice  was  choked,  but  she  looked  involuntarilv 


Il8  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

and  piteously  at  her  young  mistress.  Jessica  bowed  her  head. 
When  she  raised  it,  she  was  startled  by  the  fell  malevolence 
of  the  gaze  which  the  dying  man  had  fixed  on  her. 

"  Curse  'em  all !"  he  broke  forth  with  sudden  energy.  "  I 
mout  'a'  ben  a  man  an'  not  a  beast." 

At  this  juncture  a  negro  minister  entered  (having  been  duly 
summoned  by  Charlotte),  and  John's  thoughts  turned  to  a 
different  channel.  The  alarm  which  his  stolidity  had  at  first 
withstood  was  now  rapidly  deepening  into  panic,  and  he  grew 
frightfully  anxious  to  *'  experience  religion,"  or  anything  else 
which  would  save  him  from  that  horror  of  great  darkness  and 
torment  which  was  his  most  salient  conception  of  life  beyond 
death.  So  he  readily  joined  in  the  crude  religious  services 
which  followed. 

Jessica,  finding  that  she  was  still  a  distracting  and  ire-pro- 
voking influence,  withdrew  sadly  to  an  adjoining  room,  where 
she  waited  in  silence  any  call  for  aid,  with  her  mind  inevitably 
concentrated  on  that  dire  tragedy  which  had  begun  with  the 
beginning  of  her  own  life.  Dwelling  motionless  on  this  idea 
with  strained  inward  gaze,  she  seemed  to  be  aware  of  the 
presence  of  a  draped  and  misty  greatness  which  had  once 
stepped  from  the  background  to  close  her  plastic  baby  fingers 
on  the  life  of  that  other  little  soul,  and  thrust  it  down  to  a 
wretched  doom.  The  fancy  was  so  full  of  indefinable  menace 
that  she  roused  and  shook  herself  bodih*  to  throw  it  off;  then 
after  one  furtive,  sidelong  glance,  summoned  her  attention  to 
the  merely  human  sounds  which  came  from  about  the  death- 
bed. 

These  seemed  strange  and  bizarre  enough  even  to  one 
familiar  to  such  minstrelsy,  though  they  did  not  startle  or 
shock  her  as  they  might  have  done  at  a  first  hearing.  There 
must  always  be  something  unearthly  about  religion  ;  but  in 
this  case  the  unearthliness  was  uncouth  and  barbaric  as  well. 
The  singers,  in  their  zeal  for  snatching  a  deeply  charred 
brand  from  the  burning,  had  soon  discarded  the  ordinary 
emotional    hymns  which   they  shared   with   tiie  whites,  and 


'A   SINNER'S    PARTING   SCENE.' 


19 


passed  to  those  abnormal  productions  of  their  own  race  in 
which  the  crude  imaginin<^s  of  a  swirt  elder  land  and  faith 
make  themselves  felt  under  Christian  guise.  In  some  pas- 
sages there  was  a  gruesome  approach  to  the  comical ;  in 
otliers,  a  familiar  handling  of  sacred  things  that  was  saved 
from  blasphemy  only  by  their  obvious  sincerity;  while  in 
others,  the  incji>gruity  of  the  refrain  distorted  or  even  in- 
verted the  meaning. 

Yet,  on  the  whole,  in  spite  of  dislocations  and  monstrosi- 
ties, these  songs  of  the  soul  were  uniquely  impressive 
a-  she  heard  them,  for  they  dealt  intensely  with  the  great 
unchanging  tragic  lights  and  shadows — sin  and  evil,  life  and 
punishment,  and  hope  outlasting  all.  There  was  a  quality  in 
them  which  suggested  a  child  at  play  among  the  secrets  of 
the  universe ;  but  terror  was  never  absent. 

The  first  words  that  reached  her  were : 

"  I  year  a  rumblin'  under  de  groun'; 
It  mus'  be  Satan,  a  turnin'  aroun', 
I  year  a  rumblin'  up  in  de  sky ; 
It  mus'  be  Jesus  a  passin'  by." 

The  next  hymn  was  sung  zealously,  with  a  mingling  of  tri- 
umph and  pathos  in  the  refrain.     It  began : 

"  Saint  Michael  an'  de  dragon — 
Don't  ye  grieve  after  me  ; 
I  don't  want  ye  to  grieve  after  me." 

So  one  followed  another,  the  excitement  of  all  the  singers 
rapidly  increasing,  until  they  seemed  going  by  clockw^ork — 
the  preacher  bowing  and  stamping,  the  mother  dizzily  sway- 
ing, and  even  the  form  on  the  bed  jerking  spasmodically  in 
time  to  the  vehemently  expelled  words.  A  sense  of  frantic 
physical  contest  was  conveyed  by  the  whole  scene  ;  they  were 
working  furiously  up  to  a  predetermined  climax.  At  last  it 
was  reached,  and  with  a  zealous  accompaniment  of  "  Praise  de 
Lor' "  and  "Amen !  Glory !  Amen !"  from  his  stimulating  com- 


I20  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

panions,  the  dying  man  began  to  shout  and  scream  ecstatic- 
ally. 

"I  hab  Jesus!"  he  shrieked,  laboring  for  breath,  "I  hab 
Him!  I  hab  Him!"  at  the  same  timiC  grappling  in  the  air  as  if 
to  seize  some  tangible  presence.  Then,  with  a  shrill  outcry 
of  "Glory!  Glory!  Hallelujah!  Glor\^ !"  he  flung  himself 
upward  and  forward — and  dropped  back  dead. 

And  immediately  a  cock  crew  from  a  neighboring  enclos- 
ure— as  his  kind  often  will  in  the  dark,  silent  hours,,  for  no 
observable  cause — with  a  wild,  rollicking,  irrational  jubilation. 

"  He  must  'a'  seen  a  great  light,"  murmured  Mammy  Char- 
lotte, in  a  hush  of  awe  and  hope. 

"Amen,  Amen!"  responded  the  preacher-,  in  somber  joy. 

Jessica  wondered  at  them.  That  inflated  caricaturing  fal- 
setto, so  derisively  echo-like,  struck  painfully  across  her 
morbidly  exalted  perceptions,  and  made  her  gasp.  She  had 
an  undefined  and  needless  dread  of  something  worse  to  fol- 
low. So,  urged  by  the  instinct  of  escape,  she  rose  unsteadily 
and  worked  her  way  to  her  own  room,  with  the  face  of  Vam- 
per  staring  at  her  from  every  window-pane  that  she  passed, 
like  a  revelation  from  the  abyss. 

She  paused  only  to  light  the  gas-jets  and  turn  them  to  their 
fullest  glare  ;  then  lay  down  without  undressing,  finding  re- 
lief in  the  silence  and  brightness,  but  too  deeply  distressed 
and  shaken  to  think  connectedly  or  to  have  any  clearly  out- 
lined feeling.  After  the  lapse  of  an  hour  or  so,  she  heard  the 
approach  of  Mammy  Charlotte's  rheumatic  halting  footsteps. 
Dreading  the  interview,  Jessica  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  per- 
fectly quiet.  The  steps  entered  the  room,  drew  near  ever  so 
gently,  and  ceased.  Charlotte  had  taken  her  seat  patiently  by 
the  bedside.  At  intervals  a  hushed  sigh  came  from  her.  Be- 
fore long  Jessica  found  herself  weeping. 

"I  thought  you  were  asleep,  honey,"  said  the  old  nurse. 

Jessica  rose  on  her  elbow,  "  What  is  it  you  want  to  say  to 
me,  Mammy?" 


"A  SINNER'S   PARTING  SCENE."  121 

Charlotte  .:at  in  silence  a  few  moments  longer  with  the 
grey  dawn  making  her  face  seem  ghastly. 

"  I  knows  it'll  be  hard,"  she  said  at  last.  Then  after  another 
pause,  "  I  hain't  nobody  but  f02c  now,  honey,"  Then  a  pause 
again,  and  the  question,  "  Is  you  'gwine  to  get  rid  o'  me.  Miss 
Jessie?" 

"  Why,  ]\Iamm\',  what  do  you  mean  ?"  Jessica  exxlaimed  in 
a  little  flutter  of  dread,  half  foreseeing  what  was  to  come. 

"  You  knows  what  he  done  tole  me  when  dey  brought  him 
in,"  said  Charlotte  quietly.  Then,  with  more  bitterness  and 
tremor  in  her  voice,  she  continued,"  "  You  knows  who  done 
it,  Miss  Jessie.     Will  you  marry  dat  man  ?" 

Jessica  had  been  arguing  it  over  inarticulately.  She  now 
gave  her  arguments  form,  and  made  them  audible. 

"Charlotte,  I  grieve  for  you  and  with  you;  but  we  must  be 
just.  If  Captain  Hawksley  shot  John,  it  surely  must  have 
been  in  self-defence.  You  know — painful  as  it  is  to  say  so — 
what  have  been  his  modes  of  life,  his  associates,  his  own 
acts  of  violence.  If  he  attacked  the  captain,  what  was  the 
captain  to  do  ?" 

But  Charlotte  was  a  bereaved  mother,  and  reasoned  from 
the  heart  only.  She  asked  with  a  sort  of  intense  gentle- 
ness— 

"  Don't  you  see,  honey,  dat  I  can't  come  to  live  wid  de  man 
dat  killed  my  son?  Why  his  hands  would  look  red  every 
time  I  sot  eyes  on  'em." 

Jessica  shuddered,  uttering  a  little  groan  ;  and  Mammy 
Charlotte  began  again  with  increasing  emotion  : 

*'An'  if  John  was  bad,  who  took  him  away  fum  me,  an'  give 
all  his  life  to  de  devil  ?  All  but  his  las'  hour,  tank  de  Lor' ! 
An'  dey  give j^ou  to  me  instead,  honey;  an',  oh,  I  ha'  growed 
to  lub  you  so  dese  many  many  years  !  An'  now  dey've  done 
kill  him,  an'  '11  take  you  away  too  !  Oh,  Miss  Jessie,  you'll 
never  do  it.  Doiit  do  it.  De  Lord  won't  bless  it,  'deed  He 
won't.  All  de  many  years  dat  I've  lived  wid  you,  honey! 
Have  pity  for  your  m.other's  .sake  on  your  poor  ole  mammy."" 


122  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

The  controversy  between  feeling  and  logic  did  not  proceed 
much  farther.  Jessica  had  foreknown  the  issue ;  for  after  all 
she  had  loved  Mammy  Charlotte  first  and  longest,  and  the 
claim  for  atonement  strengthened  the  claim  on  sympathy. 
Beside,  with  all  her  theoretical  justifying  of  the  captain,  there 
was  something  very  shocking  and  hard  to  explain  away  in 
that  suffering,  dying  fellow-man  (twice  shot  through)  as  he 
had  lain  so  lately  before  her  eyes.  This  by  itself  would  not 
liave  withstood  that  other  concrete  fact,  Captain  Hawksley 
with  his  manly  presence  and  earnest  plea.  It  was  Charlotte's 
vehement  entreaty  that  finally  turned  the  scale  against  him. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

"can    I    CLASP    IT    KEEKING    RED?" 

Captain  Hawksley  had  determined  to  give  himself  up  to 
the  police  the  next  morning  to  answer  any  charges  which 
might  be  preferred  ;  but  he  thought  it  best  to  call  first  upon 
Jessica  and  explain.  He  was  surprised  to  find  an  unusual 
gloom  about  the  house  ;  and  when  Jessica  entered  the  parlor 
the  mournful  distance  of  her  manner  filled  him  with  vague 
alarm. 

'*  That  was  a  sad  affair,  Captain  Hawksley — that  of  last 
night,"  she  said,  hopelessly. 

Hawksley,  thinking  of  Robert  Chauncey,  answered,  "Ah, 
you  have  heard  of  it !  I  would  have  spared  him,  if  I  could, 
as  your  friend." 

"  My  friend,"  she  exclaimed,  her  distress  yielding  to 
astonishment. 

"  I  certainly  supposed  so,"  he  replied,  with  a  surprised  air. 
"At  all  events,  he  was  a  gyallant  gentleman." 

Here  every  graver  sentiment  yielded  to  a  sense  of  incon- 
gruity. A  puzzled  smile  flitted  into  her  face  and  out  again, 
and  she  asked : 

"What  in  the  world  do  you  mean?" 

"  I  mean,  Miss  Armstrong,  that  Mr.  Robert  Chauncey: " 

he  began  rather  austerely. 

"  He,  too  !"  she  cried,  almost  in  a  shriek. 

Hawksley  looked  at  her  bewildered.  He  had  temporarily 
forgotten  the  negro.      Before    his   mind    had    fully  adjusted 


124 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


itself  to  her  point  of  view,  she  spoke  again  in  a  constrained 
voice. 

"  Well,  sir,  tell  me  all  about  it,  if  you  please.  Are  there 
any  more  victims  ?" 

In  reply  he  explained  proudly  and  frankly,  wrth  no  appear- 
ance of  contrition,  exactly  what  had  liappened. 

"Surely  you  must  see,  Miss  Armstrong,"  he  added,  with 
offended  precision  of  utterance,  "that  I  was  perfectly  justified 
in  all  I  did." 

She  made  no  response,  though  he  kept  looking  interroga- 
tively into  her  down-dropped  eyelids. 

At  last  he  exclaimed,  with  displeased  impatience,  "  I  am 
sure  you  do  not  wish  for  a  husband  who  would  not  defend 
himself  or  j^?^." 

But  Jessica  did  not  even  look  up.  She  was  thinking  of 
Robert  Chauncey's  bereaved  mother,  and  how  the  news 
would  reach  her  before  very  long.  She  was  thinking,  too,  of 
Mammy  Charlotte ;  and  of  her  own  blighted  hopes.  It  was 
not  possible  for  her  to  answer  at  once. 

Her  lover,  watching  her  closely,  began  to  grow  fiercely 
jealous. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  rather  /  should  have  died,"  he  sug 
gested  with  stately  bitterness. 

"Oh  no,  no!"  she  replied.  "How  can  you  say  that. 
Archer  ?" 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  addressed  him  by  his 
christian  name.  His  face  brightened  with  joy  and  hope,  and, 
forgetting  her  recent  coldness  and  censure,  he  caught  her  in 
his  arms  and  kissed  her  lips  passionately.  She  could  not  re- 
pel him,  with  the  vision  which  his  words  had  called  up  still 
plainly  before  her;  but  even  while  receiving  his  caresses  she 
could  not  shut  out  that  other  vision  of  the  old  nurse's  frantic 
despair  and  her  own  solemn  promise.  She  felt  as  though  she 
were  weakly  suffering  a  curse  to  settle  upon  all  of  them.  As 
soon  as  she  could,  she  requested  with  grave  dignity — 

"  Release  me,  sir,  if  you  please." 


"CAN   I   CLASP   IT    REEKING   RED?"  I  25 

He  did  so,  and  she  withdrew  to  a  more  distant  seat.  His 
face  grew  dark. 

"Am  I  or  am  I  not  your  affianced  husband,  Miss  Arm- 
strong ?" 

**  You  are  not,  Captain  Hawksley,"  she  replied,  in  a  low 
tone,  making  a  brave  effort  to  look  steadily  at  him. 

"What?"  he  exclaimed,  hardly  believing  his  ears. 

"That  is,"  she  added,  by  way  of  qualification,  "  unless  you 
insist  when  the  lady,  wishes  release." 

"  Such  has  not  been  my  kiaracter,"  he  replied,  loftily.  "  But 
you  will  admit  that  I  am  at  least  entitled  to  an  explanation." 
Then,  breaking  down,  "  What  is  it?  Do  you  blame  me,  Jes- 
sica? Oh,  my  darling,  do  you  not  love  me  ?  See,  I  have 
even  brought  the  ring — I  was  so  sure " 

The  gathering  trouble  in  his  voice  had  reached  a  tremor  of 
agony.  It  shook  her,  sympathetically,  too.  She  began  to 
yield. 

"  Captain  Hawksley,"  she  said,  rising  in  some  alarm ;  then 
hesitated  to  steady  her  voice,  and  at  last  went  on,  "  I  will  not 
blame  you.  I  do  care  for  you.  I  am  too  much  shaken  by 
recent  events  to  say  more  now.  But  I  will  write.  And — it  is 
all  over — good-bye — forgive — forget." 

He  rose  as  if  to  rush  toward  her ;  but  she  checked  him 
with  decision,  saying — 

"  It  is  all  over,  sir." 

His  face  paled,  then  flushed  again. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  demanded,  imperiously,  "  do  I  owe  this  to 
that — I  mean  to  the  late  Mr.  Chauncey." 

"  No,  sir,"  she  answered,  in  displeased  surprise,  turning 
toward  the  door. 

"  Wait  one  moment,"  he  cried,  all  that  was  worst  in  his 
arrogant  temper  coming  uppermost;  "  Are  you  throwing  me 
over  on  account  of  that  black  brute  and  his  lachrymose  sur- 
viving relatives  ?     Am  I  discyarded  to  please  a  nigger  ?" 

Her  pride  and  scorn  were  not  less  than  his  as  she  replied — 

"  Yes,  sir." 


126  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

He  looked  thunder  and  lightning  for  a  moment,  then  said 
slowly — 

"  I  can  dispense  with  the  letter,  then.  A  gyurl  like  you  is 
no  wife  for  a  Virginia  gentleman,  Miss  Armstrong." 

She  held  her  peace,  inwardly  pitying  the  distress  which 
could  cause  such  rudeness. 

As  he  reached  the  door  he  hesitated,  then  turned  with  a 
decorous,  controlled  face  and  came  two  steps  back,  bowing 
rigidly. 

"  Miss  Armstrong,"  he  said,  "  I  owe  an  apology  to  both  of 
us.  I  have  spoken  as  no  gentleman  should  speak  to  a  lady. 
I  had  not  adequately  realized  the  effect  of  the  progressive 
ideas  of  the  day.  For  your  own  sake  I  hope  you  will  at  last 
diskyard  them.     I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Armstrong." 

She  bowed,  and  he  departed,  striding  fiercely  up  the  street. 
But  at  the  second  corner  he  halted,  at  war  with  himself,  won- 
dering whether  he  had  done  all  that  he  ought  to  have  done  as 
a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honor ;  wondering,  too,  if  he  could 
yet  do  anything  to  win  back  that  woman  who  was  so  inesti- 
mably dear  to  him.  Dear !  he  would  give  his  immortal  soul 
if  he  could  but  have  her.  "  Inordinate  affection  !"  perhaps  he 
had  always  been  inordinate  ;  inordinate,  for  that  matter,  in  the 
defense  of  Church  and  creed  and  the  old  religious  landmarks; 
and  he  would  not  ask  pardon  even  of  God  for  consistency.  Par- 
don !  it  was  beyond  volition,  a  great  upheaving  need  in  the  foun- 
dations of  his  nature.  It  shook,  and  strained,  and  tortured  him 
with  vain  craving.  Yet  how  equably  she  could  displace  him  ! 
with  what  propriety  of  sympathetic  concern  !  with  what  nicely 
adjusted  reluctance,  barely  a  trifle  too  light  to  counterbalance 
a  bit  of  clap-trap  sentiment !  What  was  there  of  heart-warm 
human  affection  in  that  ?  What  of  the  adorable  clinging  pas- 
sion of  womanly  love  which  sends  its  rootlets  deep  into  two 
souls,  and  will  not  suffer  them  to  be  torn  apart  in  life  or 
in  death  !  He  began  to  writhe  against  her,  and  despise  her^ 
and  doubly  despair  of  her,  even  while  his  irrational  longing 
grew  deeper  and  stronger.     He  had  never  been  a  man  who 


"CAN   I   CLASP   IT  REEKING   RED?"  12/ 

made  allowances  for  others,  and  he  made  none  now.  The 
absorbing  and  unchanging  devotion  of  his  own  nature  de- 
manded an  equal  return  ;  he  might  as  well  have  demanded  an 
earthquake  or  an  epic. 

Yet  at  that  moment  Jessica  was  sobbing  and  weeping  in 
most  dismal  sincerity  both  for  his  sake  and  her  own.  She 
was  doubting  in  fitful,  shaken  gusts  of  feeling  not  only  the  pro- 
priety and  kindness  but  the  uprightness  of  the  course  she  had 
taken  ;  half  wishing  that  he  would  return  and  give  her  one 
more  chance  ;  wholly  certain  that  she  could  never  love  an- 
other or  be  happy  again. 

Hawksley's  mind  turned  naturally  in  its  wrath  of  bereave- 
ment and  outrage  to  the  main-spring  of  his  troubles,  the 
execrated  spirit  of  innovation — and  Vamper.  He  had  some 
plausible  grounds  for  regarding  it  as  that  technical  '*  wrath  of 
the  righteous  "  which  is  supposed  to  take  extreme  measures 
out  of  the  jurisdiction  of  conscience.  In  Vamper  he  recog- 
nized, more  confidently  than  ever,  the  leering  whisperer 
behind  the  scenes  who  wrought  all  the  evil  which  had  lately 
been  woven  across  and  about  his  path.  Perhaps  it  was  only 
a  new  manifestation  of  a  primitive  human  instinct  when 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  startling  problems  of  sin — an 
instinct  that  embalmed  its  teaching  long  ago  in  those  still 
surviving  forms  of  indictment  which  deal  with  theories  of  in- 
stigation. A  spirit,  whether  embodied  or  bodiless,  which 
aspires  to  the  role  of  prompter  must  expect  to  be  a  scapegoat. 
Hawksley  decided  to  postpone  settlement  with  the  law  until 
another  item  should  have  been  added  to  the  account. 

At  any  other  time  this  might  not  have  been  a  matter  of 
choice ;  but  disorder  was  in  the  air  then,  and  its  effects  were 
felt  everywhere.  As  he  approached  the  centres  of  business, 
one  newsboy  after  another  ran  down  the  street,  zigzagging  to 
reach  eager  customers,  and  shouting  vehemently.  Their  frag- 
mentary, half-articulate  outcries  came  to  him  like  a  summons 
from  a  world  of  blood  and  fire,  such  as  he  had  known  before, 
which  would  not  suffer  him  to  remain  away.     Moreover,  it 


128  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

was  pretty  certain  to  draw  into  its  vortex  the  enemy  whom  he 
specially  sought.  Thus  a  combination  of  motives  directed 
him  to  the  nearest  railway  depot.  He  reached  it  just  in  time 
to  see  a  train  o{  cars,  bound  northward,  whisk  away  as  if  by 
magic ;  while  the  unmistakable  figure  of  Ishmael  Vamper 
stepped  out  on  the  rear  platform  and  bowed  with  a  ceremo- 
nious reproduction  of  Captain  Hawksley's  own  manner.  Then 
he  kissed  his  hand  and  waved  it  airily,  calling  out  in  a  mirth- 
ful, reassuring  sing-song,  a  homely  phrase  of  adieu  which  he 
had  probably  picked  up  on  the  Eastern  Shore — "  So,  Cap- 
tain." 

Hawksley  can  hardly  have  intended  to  reply  into  a  crowded 
car;  but  instinct  or  habit  sent  his  hand  to  his  hip.  Others 
noted  the  mo^  ement,  and  a  finger  was  laid — very  gingerly — 
on  his  shoulder,  while  a  voice  said  in  tremulous  deprecation, 
''Boass!" 

Hawksley's  ear  caught  the  African  intonation,  and  he  strode 
violently  aside  as  if  to  fling  off  something  venomous.  His 
face  did  not  grow  more  amiable  as  he  discovered  that  he  had 
been  accosted  by  a  negro  in  uniform. 

The  latter,  disconcerted,  did  his  best  to  conciliate,  saying — 

"  I  wasn'  studyin'  toe  'sturb  you  boss.  I  didn'  go  for  to  be 
persumptious.  But  I  was  'feard  I  mought  be  bleedg  toe  take 
yo  inter  custad-ee,  boss." 

**  I  think  not,"  answered  Hawksley,  with  grim  significance. 

"  No,  boss,"  protested  the  policeman,  hastily,  at  once  chang- 
ing front,  "  mos'  reliably  not !  No  such  attention,  I  do  'sho' 
you,  boss !  I  haben't  fo'got  dat  I  owe  yo'  my  salvation,  boss — 
my  nocturnal  salvation." 

"  Were  you  one  of  the  crowd  who  were  making  such  un- 
commonly good  time?"  asked  Hawksley  with  relaxing  face- 

"'Deed  I  was,  boss,"  answered  the  policeman,  chuckling. 
*'  I  was  fo'  a  fac'.  Dat  peril  will  dwell  in  my  membranes,  sar, 
forever  and  ever,  amen.  I  haven'  done  been  so  scared,  boss, 
since  I  was  converted  an'  got  de  grace  an'  de  power.  I  felt 
like  a  backslidin'  sinner  wid  de  devil  arter  him  '' 


"CAN    I   CLASP   IT   REEKING   RED?"  I  29 

''A  very  good  presentation  of  the  situation,  all  round," 
endorsed   Hawksley. 

"  Yess,  boss,  licaps  of  'cm,"  assented  the  other,  with  cheery 
vagueness,  glad  to  do  the  polite  in  his  turn. 

The  crowd,  which  had  begun  to  gather  in  the  hope  of  see- 
ing something  dramatic,  now  dispersed  with  a  disappointed 
air.  Nevorthckss,  the  well-meaning  fellow  lowered  his  voice 
confidentially,  as  he  continued — 

"  Pow'ful  pity  'bout  dat  nice  tipsy  young  gen'l'um,  boss  ! 
Evil  communications,  boss  !  Pourin'  ole  wine  into  young 
bottles,  boass  !"'  And  this  sage  in  uniform  gave  his  head  the 
true  moralizing  shake.  He  was  considered  a  very  improving 
exhorter  at  tlie  "colored  people's  Ebenezer,"  and  never  felt 
greater  t  an  when  expatiating  in  full  regalia  to  The  Amal- 
gamated hons  and  Daughters  and  Brothers  and  Sisters  of 
Moses. 

Hawksley  did  not  smile  this  time.  The  expounder  re- 
sumed— 

"  It  was  a  dee-up  jedgment — ah ;  it  went  right  froo  him. 
He  succumbed  in  de  darkness,  ah.  Praise  de  Lord,  ah,  who 
done  raise  him  fum  de  valley  o'  de  shadows,  wid  a  sorter 
bung  hole  in  he  side  an'  moughty  nasty  an'  stinkin' !" 

"  What !"  exclaimed  Hawksley,  "  is  he  still  alive?" 

"  He  amy 

The  orator  was  going  on,  but  Hawksley  stopped  him, 
ejaculating,  "  Thank  God !"  with  solemn  emphasis,  raising 
his  hat  slowly  at  the  same  time,  as  if  in  some  august  pres- 
ence.    Then  he  asked — 

"  Whore  is  he?" 

"  In  a  little  shanty,  boss,"  was  the  answer.  "  His  punctua- 
tion was  so  bad  de  doctor  wouldn't  let  us  export  him  to  de 
horse-spittle.     He  jess  stood  out  an'  wouldn't." 

"  Who  extracted  him  from  that  horrible  place  ?" 

"I  dunno  who  'stracted  him,  boss,  but  I  done  help  fotch 
him  out.     He  was  a  hangin'  on  a  rope,   sar,  when  we  come 
back  in  fo'ce,  after  you — removed  yourself,  sar ;    a  danglin' 
10 

_       : /    i'^L^t^ry 


130  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

mos'  like  a  big  mud  catfish  on  a  string — an'  a  openin'  his  mouf 
j^."  Here  he  made  a  very  idolatrous  and  Polynesian  exhibi- 
tion. 

Captain  Hawksley  turned  aside  and  said  curtly,  "Go  on." 

"Well,  boss,"  continued  the  narrator  more  hastily,  "he 
'lowed  he  wouldn'  let  go.  He  hung  on  like  a  dentis'  toe  a 
bad  toofe.  But  we  yanked  him  out  bes'  way  we  could,  an' 
we  done  tote  him  toe  de  fuss  house,  a  cavortin'  wid  de  misery 
an'  a  talkin'  mos'  unwisely.  Den  de  sisters  done  come  an' 
makes  him  salubrious,  an'  now  he's  a  lyin'  as  peaceable  as 
Lazarus  in  Abraham's  bosom — leastways  'ceptin'  de  nice  hair 
mattress  mus'  be  comfortabler  dan  de  ole  man's  shirt  studs." 

"So  the  Catholics  have  him,"  said  the  captain,  in  a  not  very 
gracious  tone,  which  may  have  been  more  or  less  ancestral  ; 
"  well,  will  you  be  kyind  enough  to  show  me  the  way  ?"" 
handing  over  a  little  silver. 

"  I  dunno,  boss,"  answered  the  policeman,  looking  furtively 
around.  "  It's  ofe  my  beat."  Then  he  pocketed  the  coin. 
"  Never  mind,  boss,  I'll  do  it.  It  does  me  good  toe  meet  up 
wid  a  ole  time,  high  tone  Vaginny  gen'l'um,  an'  year  him 
say  '  keind'  wid  dat  lofty  intoenashin.  It  revives  'membranes 
of  de  quality,  sar.  Dats  de  way  our  white  folks  allers  talked. 
An',  besides,  boss,  I  have  not  forgotten  an'  I  shall  not  forget 
my  nocturnal  salivation,  sar." 


CHAPTER   XX. 


A  toilsome  walk  across  the  commons  brought  Captain 
Hawksley  to  the  wind-rattled  frame  building  wherein  Robert 
Chauncey  was  to  make  the  most  of  his  slippery  hold  on 
life — so  like  that  of  the  dangling  squirrel  which  sees  (ot 
feels)  the  sunshine  through  his  dripping  blood  and  keeps 
yet  a  little  longer,  hardly  by  will  or  choice,  the  one  last 
grip  which  stays  his  frolicsome  being  from  the  fall  into  utter 
darkness  ! 

Hawksley  was  pleased  to  find  that  the  rather  squalid  in- 
habitants had  been  induced  to  give  up  their  best  room,  and 
the  good  "sister"  who  now  sat  by  the  bedside  had  made  that 
best  very  much  better.  Divers  little  articles  of  comfort  were 
there,  looking  like  exotics,  and  everything  was  clean,  even 
to  the  bed  and  its  coverlet.  By  one  of  those  untimely 
and  altogether  improper  excursions  of  thought  which  spare 
no  one,  the  captain  reflected  that  it  would  be  a  great  comfort 
to  Robert  Chauncey  to  die  neatly  and  tastefully,  if  he  must 
die  at  all.  Yet  as  he  looked  at  the  thin,  pale  face,  hardly  in 
relief  against  the  pillow,  it  did  not  seem  to  him  that  this 
young  man  could  be  merely  dilettante  or  over-fastidious. 
Perhaps  he  saw  rather  the  pain  and  the  weakness  than 
their  posse.ssor — eternal  things  which  have  impressiveness 
enough   to   lend   it. 

The  sister  saw  that  he  was  pausing  as  if  in  some  perplex- 
ity; so  she  rose  and  came  forward,  with  a  glance  at  the 
patient    and    a    qu"et    warning    gesture.      They   passed    out 


132 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


through  the  door  and  far  enough  for  the  sigh  and  drone 
of  the  rising  wind  to  drown  their  voices.  Her  Celtic  face 
had  in  a  measure  prepared  Hawksley  for  her  first  utterance ; 
yet  if  he  had  been  accessible  to  any  romantic  illusions  they 
would  have  been  promptly  dispelled. 

"  Sure,"  said  she,  "  ye'U  be  wan  av  the  poor  by's  frinds, 
that  we've  been  a  tryin'  to  find,  and  couldn't,  more's  the 
pity?" 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  answered — 

"  Yes."  Then  frankly,  ''  It  is  right  you  should  know ;  I 
shot  him." 

"Oh,  Mither  o'  mercy!"  she  cried,  drawing  back.  ''An'  is 
tliat  what  ye  call  bein'  frindly !" 

"  We  will  not  dwell  on  that,"  he  said,  with  distant  gentle- 
ness.    "  You  are  not  my  confessor,  you  know." 

"Aha,  but  it'll  be  a  hard  penance  he'll  give  ye,  sor !"  she 
cried,  with  exultant  relish ;  then  as  if  it  were  qualified  by 
doubt,  she  asked — 

"  But  maybe  ye're  not  a  Catholic  ?" 

"  I  am  not,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  bear  my  penance  may  be — 
rightly  or  wrongly.  However,  I  assure  you  I  come  as  a  friend. 
You  may  stand  gyard  over  us  both." 

She  hovered  doubtfully  about  him  as  they  re-entered. 
Chauncey  was  still  asleep.  The  captain  deliberately  took  a 
tablet  from  his  pocket  and  pencilled  a  short  note ;  then  tore 
off  the  page  methodically,  folded  it,  wrote  the  direction  on 
the  back  and  handed  it  to  his  fellow-watcher. 

"  Send  this  as  soon  as  you  can,"  he  said.  "  It  will  bring  a 
friend  who  will  never  forsake  hiiny  He  could  not  refrain 
from  laying  a  little  bitter  emphasis  on  the  last  word. 

The  sister  looked  at  it  and  at  him,  then  raised  it  to  the 
light,  and  read  aloud  with  some  difficulty,  "  Miss  Jes — sica 
Armstrong.     Turning,  she  asked — 

"  Is  it  her  ye'll  be  maning  ?" 

The  name  seemed  to  have  reached  the  sleeper,  for  he  stirred 
a  little  and  his  lips  seemed  to  be  forming  it,  though  no  sound 


I 


"WHERE  LATE  THE  SWEET   BIRDS  SANG."  I  33 

issued.  Hawksley  saw  this  and  was  undeniably  stung,  though 
his  resolution  did  not  falter.  The  curiosity  in  the  sister's 
manner  also  nettled  him,  though  in  a  different  spot.  So  he 
replied  with  unusual  curtness — 

"  You're  waking  him.     Make  haste,  that's  a  good  gyurL" 

She  bristled  with  umbrage  at  the  word  "  girl,"  however 
transformed,  and  at  the  tone  in  which  it  nas  uttered.  They 
recalled  old  kitchen  and  laundry  days  before  the  era  of  white 
caps  and  black  raiment.  Her  self-assertion  was  quite  wasted, 
for  he  did  not  even  look  at  her,  perceiving  which  her  wrath 
doubled,  and  she  came  very  near  making  an  irreligious 
flounce  of  bottled  fury  on  her  way  to  the  door. 

Her  incautious  movements  completed  Chauncey's  awaken- 
ing. His  eyes  unclosed,  and  he  murmured  something  about 
Cypress  Beach.  Then  recognition  came  more  unmistakably 
into  them,  and  he  said  in  a  low  welcoming  voice,  "  Captain 
Hawksley." 

"He  sames  plazed  !"  exclaimed  the  sister,  who  had  now  re- 
turned to  the  bedside,  and  whose  anger  was  already  giving 
place  to  her  interest  in  the  affairs  of  her  charge. 

"  He  doesn't  remember,"  said  Hawksley.  "  Yes,  Mr.  Chaun- 
cey,  it  is  I."  Then  he  murmured  half  aloud,  "  What  ought  I 
to  do?" 

**  Hold  your  pays!  It's  a  blessed  thing  he  forgot  that 
same,"  cried  the  sister,  almost  fiercely. 

Their  words  set  Chauncey's  mind  feebly  in  motion,  like  one 
groping  with  outspread  fingers  in  a  darkened  passage.  Back 
it  went  into  a  chaos  of  thick  darkness  and  effluvia,  and  no 
sensations  but  of  struggling  and  whirling  and  choking  ;  then 
on  to  a  desperate,  interminable  clinging  with  hands  and  chin, 
while  his  head  swam  and  a  great  pain  tore  at  his  side  ;  then 
back  to  a  sudden  fall  from  some  great  height ;  and  then  on 
again  to  slowly  ebbing  hours  and  kind,  strange  forms  and 
faces.  One  by  one  these  visions  seemed  to  come  of  them- 
selves and  shift  about  waveringly.  He  could  not  be  quite 
sure  which   was    first   or  which  was   last,   or  what  was  their 


134  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

thread  of  connection — if  any  of  them  had  ever  really  been. 
He  did  not  particularly  care  about  the  explanation,  or  indeed 
about  anything. 

Then  more  vividly  he  saw  that  tableau  on  the  archway  ; 
Vamper  and  his  wretched  crew  behind,  John  writhing  under 
foot,  Hawksley  rigid  in  front,  and  himself  as  a  sort  of  centre- 
piece rushly  blindly  forward  and  upward  in  what  now  seemed 
a  faintly  amusing  turmoil  of  passion ;  while  below  him  the 
unspeakably  nasty  sewer-creek  waited  innocently  for  any  one 
who  was  fool  enough  to  tumble  into  it. 

He  inspected  that  picture  as  dispassionately  as  a  connois- 
sieur  or  a  scientific  investigator,  although  there  was  nothing 
of  conscious  will  in  the  scrutiny.  It  was  all  a  show  to  him 
now.  He  knew  perfectly  what  had  brought  him  into  that 
panorama,  but  he  knew  it  as  the  experience  of  an  unaccount- 
ably foolish  young  man,  whom  he  almost  thought  of  in  the 
third  person.  The  interests  which  had  been  so  real  and  thrill- 
ing then  were  strangely  faded  now.  He  did  not  feel  as  though 
he  owned  any  serious  grievance.  There  was  something  so 
preposterous  about  the  masquerade  that  the  catastrophe 
seemed  quite  in  order.  He  smiled  placidly  to  think  how  the 
whole  episode  would  work  up  into  a  caricature. 

That  smile  was  still  on  his  face  when  he  looked  towards 
Hawksley  and  said  — 

"  No,  I  have  not  forgotten." 

**  You  forgive  me?  you  are  glad  to  see  me?"  asked  Hawk- 
sley with  a  touch  of  eagerness. 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  a  fellow  can  be  glad  of  anything.  I  have 
been  a  blessed  ass;  and  yet  just  now  I  believe  I  could  forgive 
even  myself" 

"  You  are  a  noble  man,"  exclaimed  Hawksley  ;  "  I  said  at 
the  time  you  were  a  gyallant  gentleman." 

"Did  you?  How  uncommonly  kind!  If  I  could  only 
have  heard  you !" — and  Chauncey's  face  made  a  pathetic 
attempt  to  be  mildly  comical.  Nevertheless  the  captain's 
praise  gratified  him. 


WHERE   LATE   THE   SWEET   DIRDS   SANG. 


135 


The  sly  irony  did  not  altogether  escape  Havvksley's  notice 
(though  he  was  never  quick  to  suspect  ridicule),  and  at  another 
time  he  might  have  been  offended ;  but  now  it  rather  gave 
him  pleasure,  as  putting  them  on  terms  of  acknowledged 
comradeship  and  good  will.  He  did  not  like  to  feel  that  there 
was  any  unkindness  between  himself  and  the  man  whom  he 
had  shot.     Most  assuredly  there  was  none  on  his  part. 

These  sentiments  were  not  lost  on  Robert  Chauncey,  as  he 
lay  there  with  nothing  but  hazy  perceptions  to  occupy  either 
mind  or  body.  The  humorous  element  of  the  situation  en- 
tered and  floated  about  in  his  brain  like  mist  in  moonlight, 
making  everything  else  seem  as  unsubstantial  as  itself,  and 
prolonging  his  gentle  smile  till  it  seemed  as  though  this  had 
come  to  stay.  Presently,  however,  it  faded,  and  he  spoke  as 
one  who  is  impelled  by  duty,  yet  bears  willing  testimony. 

"  Sister,"  said  he,  "  you  have  been  very  kind  to  me  ;  and  I 
know^  you  will  do  me  one  more  kindness.  If  I  die — and  I 
daresay  I  had  better,  for  the  world  can  get  on  tolerably  with- 
out me — I  want  you  to  remember  that  he  did  this  in  self-de- 
fence." 

He  pointed  weakly  to  his  side  and  glanced  at  Hawksley  as 
he  spoke. 

"  You're  jist  an  angel,"  she  rather  irrelevantly  replied,  be- 
ginning to  dig  at  her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief. 

This  time  there  came  from  the  bed  a  sound  like  a  far  away 
echo  of  laughter.  Hawksley  had  taken  Chauncey's  hand  and 
was  pressing  it  with  grateful  respect,  when  he  felt  it  twitch, 
and  the  laughter  ceased.  He  looked  at  the  sufferer's  face, 
and  it  was  a  sufferer's  face  indeed. 

**  This  is  frightful,"  said  he. 

"  It  is  no  good  thing,"  admitted  Chauncey,  gasping  a  little. 

"  You  must  be  more  kyareful,"  cautioned  the  all  but  fatal 
friend  ;  "  we  have  been  talking  too  volubly." 

"  One  might  as  well  die  smiling  as  sulking,"  replied  Chaun- 
cey, with  an  effort. 

Then  he  was  dutifully  silent  for  awhi'.c.     When  he  again 


I  ^6  •  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

Spoke,  it  was  evident  that  with  the  revival  of  his  vital  spirits 
some  other  things  had  revived  which  were  not  so  pleasant. 
We  regain  life  as  we  keep  it,  under  penalties. 

"  There's  one  thing,  Captain,"  he  said,  with  rather  forced 
magnanimity.  .  "  Speaking  of  angels — I  suppose  a  fellow  who 
is  about  leaving  may  say  it — don't  be  too  hard  on  her  if  she 
isn't  quite  tJiat.  Few  women  are,  you  know.  She  may 
need  some  practice  to  get  your  precision  of  aim,  even  in  re- 
ligious matters  ;  and  her  enthusiasms  of  all  sorts  are  perhaps 
a  little  more  comfortable  and  loosely  worn  than  yours.  They 
may  not  happen  to  gall  her  when  they  gall  you,  and  then  the 
family  won't  be  quite  unanimous.  You  see  I  can  face  the 
inevitable  all  round. 

"And  after  all,"  he  added, wearily,  "it  doesn't  matter  much.. 
Nothing  in  this  world  matters  very  much.  I'm  pretty  well 
out  of  the  game." 

Captain  Hawksley  was  breathless  for  a  moment.  He  for- 
got everything  else  in  the  unconscious  irony  of  the  other's 
words.  He  to  be  advised  and  yielded  to  as  the  victor,  when 
his  disastrous  failure  had  destroyed  the  whole  value  of  life! 

He  said  stiffly,  almost  sternly,  "  You  are  quite  in  error,  sir. 
I  shall  never  see  that  lady  again,  though  she  has  my  sincere 
regyard.  It  is  you  who  will  have  to  show  consideration." 
After  hesitating  a  moment  he  added  more  cordially,  "  I  wish 
all  happiness  and  prosperity  to  you  both.  Do  not  feel  hurt 
if  she  sometimes  remembers  me  kyindly  while  you  are  in  the 
sunshine,  and  I — am  out  of  it." 

Here  the  good  sister  began  to  shake  like  so  much  faintly 
ruddy  blancmange  ;  and  she  observed  demurely — 

"  It  sames  to  me  that  yees  two  gintlemen  are  moighty  kind 
an'  thoughtful  to  one  anither,  a  givin'  the  young  lady  back 
an'  forth  like  a  battledore  an'  shettlecock.  But  av  nayther  of 
ye  will  have  her,  out  of  pure  good  will,  how  can  the  ither  one 
get  her?  And  thin — may  be  she  won't  have  aither  of  ye  at 
all  at  all." 

Robert  Chauncey  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 


WHERE   LATE   THE   SWEET    BIRDS   SANG. 


37 


Captain  Hawksley  declared,  "  There  is  g-ood  sense  in  wliat 
our  discriminating  friend  says.  As  for  dying-,  diskyard  such 
fancies.  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  die.  Vo/t  have 
not  seen  the  end  of  all  you  believed  in  and  held  dear." 

The  next  moment  he  looked  ashamed  of  this  instinctive 
appeal  for  sympathy,  and  then  resumed  his  usual  composure 
of  countenance. 

The  sister  evidently  did  not  approve  of  his  choice  of  topics. 

"  Ye  may  come  an'  see  him  to-morrow,  sir,"  she  said,  signi- 
ficantly. 

He  bade  Chauncey  "  Good-bye"  encouragingly,  pressing 
his  hand  as  he  rose. 

The  patient  faintly  returned  the  pressure,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  and  said — 

"  God  bless  you  !     I  never  half  understood  you  before." 

The  sister  followed  Hawksley  outside.  He  turned  consid- 
erately toward  her, 

"  Indade,  I'm  thinkin'  the  praist  might  let  up  on  the  pen- 
ance thin,"  she  said. 

He  shook  his  head  sedately.  "There  is  not  much  'letting 
up'  in  the  universe  short  of  the  Day  of  Judgment — if  t/ic/i. 
Well,  my  good  woman,  take  this  for  his  benefit.  Say  noth- 
ing, but  get  what  he  requires.  If  there  is  more  than  you  can 
use  for  him  keep  it  for  your  poor." 

Hawksley  strode  rapidly  away  while  she  was  overhauling 
in  some  bewilderment  the  liberal  roll  of  paper  money  which 
he  had  handed  her.  She  looked  from  it  to  him,  and  from 
him  to  it  again. 

"  I  wandre  now,"  she  said,  bowing  her  head  over  it  in  loose 
jerks  as  if  she  were  a  great  wire-neck  doll,  "  I  wandre  whether 
that  same  is  an  angel,  too.  He  gives  away  his  money  like  a 
seraphim." 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

"  WHEN  PAIN  AND  ANGUISH  WRING  THE  BROW." 

For  an  hour  or  more  after  Hawksley's  departure,  Jessica 
had  been  self-imprisoned  in  her  room,  refusing  to  answer  a 
word  to  Mammy  Charlotte's  anxious  summons  and  entreaties. 
It  was  possible  to  forego  her  lover,  but  not  to  forego  some 
futile,  pettishly  vindictive  token  of  conscious  ill-usage.  She 
wished  almost  savagely  that  the  gravity  of  her  sacrifice  might 
be  felt. 

Indeed,  she  was  desolate.  She  felt  that  she  had  irrevocably 
cast  away  her  only  reliance  ;  she  dared  not  stay  unprotected 
in  these  ominous  times,  in  danger  of  Vamper's  molestation  \ 
and  how  could  she  present  herself  again  at  Cypress  Beach  ? 
One  distress  had  followed  another,  until  everything  in  the 
world  seemed  working  together  for  evil. 

While  she  was  in  this  dismal  reverie,  she  heard  her 
uncle's  voice  under  her  window,  and  immediately  afterward 
a  clearly  emphasized  stroke  of  their  heavy  knocker.  Act- 
ing on  her  first  impulse,  she  sprang  to  the  door,  unlocked 
it,  and  hurried  downstairs  to  welcome  him  ;  but  in  the  hall 
below  she  was  visited  by  disabling  memories,  and  shrank 
back  in  doubt  if  not  in  fear.  At  last,  as  he  was  admitted,  she 
summoned  all  her  strength,  and  went  straight  up  to  him.  He 
held  out  both  his  hands,  advancing  with  a  face  full  of  sun- 
beams, and  the  cheery  greeting — 

"  Well,  Jessica,  how  do  you  come  on  ?" 

Jessica  stared'^for  a  moment;  she  had  been  '*  comine  on" 
with  a  vengeance.     But  the  next  moment  all  else  was  lost  in 

138 


WHEN   PAIN  AND  ANGUISH   WRING  THE  BROW. 


139 


a  great  rush  of  relief  and  delight,  and  she  began  to  laugh, 
though  a  little  nervously. 

He  joined  in  her  mirth,  patting  her  gently  on  the  back,  and 
kissing  her  forehead.  He  had  obviously  determined  to  set 
aside  all  disagreeable  matters  as  if  they  had  never  been.  So 
he  discoursed  to  her  voluminously  on  the  state  of  the  country, 
the  precarious  condition  of  Baltimore,  the  agricultural  pros- 
pects of  the  season,  the  constantly  increasing  laziness  of  "  la- 
bor," the  promising  attributes  of  his  latest  thoroughbred  colt, 
and  the  peculiar  fattening  qualities  of  his  neighbor's  pigs  ;  but 
not  a  word  about  Vamper  or  even  Hawksley. 

Before  this  heavy  strategy  could  be  fairly  tested,  it  was 
suddenly  thrown  into  disorder  by  httle  Prince.  That  very 
young  gentleman  was  not  much  in  the  habit  of  interrupt- 
ing, but  now  the  stress  of  curiosity  and  interest  could  not 
be  withstood.  After  long  fidgeting  and  sundry  abortive  en- 
deavors (which  were  absolutely  overwhelmed,  without  notice, 
in  the  flood  of  the  old  gentleman's  oracular  eloquence),  he  at 
last  found  a  real  break  in  the  monologue,  and  interjected, 
scramblingly — 

"  I  say.  Cousin  Jess,  is  it  true  the  captain  shot  some  strikers 
or  somebody  last  night?  A  man  told  us  so.  I  disremember 
his  name." 

"Unhappily  he  did,"  answered' Jessica. 

"Unhappily!"  repeated  Prince,  with  some  indignation. 
"  Do  you  suppose  if  a  gang  of  men  came  at  me  with  clubs 
and  pistols  I  would  fire  in  the  air?  Ha,  you  catch  me  if  I 
would  !" 

But  Jessica  was  rising,  tmsteadily,  to  escape  torture. 

"One  of  them  was  an  old  friend — Mr.  Chauncey,"  she  said. 
"The  death  of  the  other  has  driven  Captain  Hawksley — from 

— this  house " 

.  At  this  point  the  tremor  of  her  lips  and  throat  became 
uncontrollable,  and  she  suddenly  buried  her  face  in  her  hands, 
shaking  with  violent  sobs. 

Her  uncle  sprang  heavily  to  his  feet,  with  an  angry  side- 


T40 


CYPRESS   BEACH 


glance  at  Prince,  and  drew  her  into  his  arms,  laying  her  cheek 
against  his  great  chest  and  bowing  his  well-bearded  face  and 
great  head  obliquely  over  her,  with  much  caressing  and  pur- 
ring, like  a  Lybian  lion  comforting  its  wounded  young. 
Then  he  looked  up  again,  demanding,  sternly — 

"Can  you  not  be  more  considerate  in  your  allusions,  boy?" 

"Considerate!"  grumbled  Prince,  with  an  injured  air. 
"  Haven't  I  upset  three  fellows  for  talking  about  Cousin 
Jessie  ?     Don't  you  call  that  'considerate'?" 

Luckily,  Jessica's  ears  were  too  well  muffled  to  catch  this 
reassuring  speech.  Presently  Prince's  conscience  ^tung  him, 
and  he  crept  up  sheepishly  alongside,  saying — 

"  I  didn't  go  to  hurt  your  feelings.  Cousin  Jessie.  'Deed, 
'n'  double  'deed,  I  didn't." 

Then  Jessica  withdrew  a  little  and  shook  off  her  tears,  so  to 
speak — 

"  This  Jessica  of  yours  is  a  foolish  little  goose,  you  see," 
she  said,  with  a  mournful  archness  ;  "  but  you  know  how  I 
love  you  both.     Sit  down,  and  I  will  try  to  tell  you  about  it." 

When  she  had  made  an  end  of  her  story,  her  uncle  added 
the  moral. 

"  It  all  springs  from  this  agrarian  and  communistic  agita- 
tion, which  is  a  reverberation  of  abolitionism — a  most  noxiouo 
influence.  But  what  could -have  made  that  promising  young 
man  league  with  rahscals,  and  throw  away  his  life  gratuitously 
in  so  despicable  a  cause  ?  It  is  inexplicable,  radically  inex- 
plicable. As  for  John,  he  always  seemed  to  me  a  devil — a 
natural  devil;  but  you  say  he  died  in  faith  and  hope;  and, 
after  all,  what  human  heart  is  for  ever  exempt  from  the  goad- 
ings  of  compunction  and  the  influx  of  laudable  propensities  ? 
At  all  events,  Charlotte  has  been  a  faithful  servitor,  and  we 
owe  it  to  her  that  every  decorum  should  be  observed  in  her 
son's  interment.  If  we  can  help  her  to  organize  a  fine  dis- 
play, it  will  be  a  prodigious  consolation." 

With  all  his  kindliness,  he  could  not  help  smiling  a  little. 

In  their  absorbing  conversation,  a  timid  rap  at  the  outer 


"WHEN    PAIN   AND  ANGUISH  WRING  THE  BROW."  I4I 

door,  and  its  opening,  had  passed  unnoticed.  Hawksley's 
letter  was  now  brought  in  to  Jessica.  She  glanced  over  it 
trembling;  then  uttered  a  little  joyful  cry — 

'•  He  is  not  dead!" 

"  My  hat !  Zines  and  death,  my  hat !  Where  did  I  put  my 
hat?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Armstrong,  rising  and  looking  eagerly 
in  the  most  unlikely  places.  Then  he  paused  to  ask,  "Where 
is  the  poor  young  fellow,  my  dear  ?" 

Jessica  was  in  a  strange  state  of  indecision.  She  did  not 
really  mean  to  neglect  her  suffering  friend;  but  she  had  a 
fore-feeling  of  the  epochal  nature  of  this  visit,  with  regard  to 
her  own  future,  which  involved  a  certain  shrinking,  even  re- 
bellion. Even  amid  her  startled  delight  at  the  news  that  one 
suitor  was  saved  from  death  and  the  other  from  being  his 
homicide,  she  detected  (or  suspected)  in  Hawksley's  note 
a  displeasing  intimation  of  unauthorized,  cavalier  transfer. 
Surely  it  was  very  humiliating  to  find  her  affections  handed 
about  as  current  coin  of  generosity,  and  all  the  more  so  for 
certain  inward  whispers  that  she  might  have  to  ratify  the 
transaction.  Yet  circumstances  would  not  permit  her  to  halt 
Already  the  world,  as  represented  by  her  uncle  and  cousin, 
was  beginning  to  open  its  eyes  over  her  delay.  So  she  post- 
poned all  thoughts  of  resistance,  and  drifted  wath  the  current 
— to  Robert  Chauncey. 

When  that  fortunately  unfortunate  young  man  came  hazily 
out  of  slumber,  to  feel  his  sweetheart's  light  hand  smoothing 
the  hair  from  his  brow,  he  began  to  grow  perceptibly  better. 
He  had  no  doubt  now  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  get  well.  He 
looked  up  at  her  gratefully,  and  asked — 

"  Is  there  any  feasable  plan  for  getting  the  worst  of  a  shoot- 
ing match  once  or  twice  a  week  ?" 

She  laid  her  finger  on  his  lips  with  a  motherliness  which 
he  found  both  diverting  and  delightful. 

"  I  am  not  a  sensitive  plant  or  a  bird  of  paradise,  though 
you  may  think  I  look  like  it,"  he  remarked,  perversel}-,  as 
well  as  that  finger  would  let  him.     But  he  saw  so  much  gen- 


142  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

uine  concern  in  her  face  that  he  closed  liis  eyes  with  a  faintly 
comical  grimace,  and  seemingly  went  to  sleep. 

As  he  lay  thus  shamming,  half  in  lassitude  and  half  in 
artfulness,  a  steady  stertorous  breathing,  varied  by  occasional 
wakeful  starts  and  breaks,  came  from  beyond  the  foot  of  the 
bed.  Through  his  closed  eyelids  Chauncey  seemed  to  see 
Mr.  Armstrong  succumbing,  after  a  period  of  irradiation,  to 
the  prolonged  quiet  of  the  scene,  and  bowing  his  head  mas- 
sively on  his  breast  like  Jove  dozing  on  Olympus.  Somehow 
Robert  felt  more  in  sympathy  with  the  old  gentleman  than 
ever  before;  but  the  portrait  tickled  his  fancy  so  that  it  nearly 
broke  up  the  repose  of  his  expression. 

A  moment  later  the  sister,  perhaps  in  search  of  less  sleepy 
surroundings,  rose  and  passed  out  with  the  very  faintest  of 
creaking  and  rustling.  The  occupants  of  the  room  were  thus 
reduced  to  the  sleeper,  the  seeming  sleeper,  and  the  young 
lady  who  was  most  obviously  wide  awake.  Silence,  except 
for  Mr.  Armstrong's  premonitions  of  snoring,  and  a  faint,  un- 
decided fluttering  in  another  quarter,  seemed  to  deepen  and 
dwell  about  them,  until  Robert  Chauncey 's  wits  were  really 
drifting  away  in  a  haze  that  was  rather  tinged  than  broken  by 
a  certain  formless  expectation. 

In  this  state  he  felt,  or  thought  he  felt,  what  he  was  desiring 
most  of  all  things,  the  momentary  pressure  of  two  warm 
velvety  lips,  recalling  his  senses  from  dreamland.  With  com- 
mendable discretion  he  kept  his  eyes  still  sealed,  but  could 
not  quite  control  a  certain  lighting  and  flushing  of  counte- 
nance, a  tell-tale  tremor  and  thrill.  While  the  print  of  the 
caress  (real  or  fancied)  was  still  on  his  brow,  he  heard  Jessica 
move  about  the  room ;  and  felt,  without  seeing  it,  that  he  was 
undergoing  a  furtive  and  uneasy  inspection  from  various 
points  of  view. 

If  Jessica  were  responsible  for  this  little  phenomenon,  no 
one  ever  knew  it  certainly.  At  any  rate,  neither  Chauncey's 
lady-love  nor  his  creative  imagination  kissed  him  again  dur- 
ing his  illness. 


WHEN    PAIN   AND   ANGUISH   WRING   THE   BROW. 


43 


In  truth,  Jessica  was  deeply  stirred  by  pity,  and  somewhat 
more.  Deep  as  had  been  her  distress  at  the  loss  of  Captain 
Hawksley,  sincere  as  was  her  reluctance  to  allow  one  image 
to  supplant  another  with  such  unseemly  speed,  these  consid- 
erations had  altogether  vanished  at  the  sight  of  that  helpless, 
untimely  smitten  form,  that  wan,  weak,  patient  face,  so  meanly 
housed  yet  so  cheerily  willing  to  endure  and  forgive.  Logical 
justifications  might  be  very  satisfying  to  the  intellect;  but 
the  man  who  received  the  bullet  had  an  undeniable  advanta^-e 
over  the  one  who  sped  it,  when  the  appeal  lay  elsewhere; 
especially  as  the  latter  was  absent  and  intact,  in  body  and 
conscience.  Moreover,  she  surmised  something  of  her  own 
influence  in  bringing  about  the  disaster;  and  she  felt  that 
the  importance  thus  accorded  her  was  in  sharp  contrast 
with  Hawksley's  depreciating  readiness  to  forego  all  further 
efforts  It  was  something  to  be  a  motive  to  somebody. 
Nevertheless  she  did  not  spare  herself  for  the  scornful  lack 
of  perception  which  had  driven  the  man  who  held  her  dear- 
est into  the  very  jaws  of  death. 

She  could  not  go  with  her  uncle  in  denouncing  as  utterly 
despicable  the  cause  in  which  Robert  Chauncey  had  suffered. 
She  saw  undoubtedly  that  grave  dangers  lurked  in  it,  and 
that  excesses  would  almost  certainly  ensue  ;  but  her  mind 
was  better  prepared  than  ever  before  to  admit  a  baleful  picture 
of  the  oppressions  which  might  have  been  long  endured  in 
silence  by  multitudes  practically  outside  of  her  world  and  her 
knowledge.  Captain  Hawksley's  stronghold  had  been  in  her 
enthusiastic  adoration  of  heroism  ;  but  perhaps  after  all  the 
heroism  of  the  heart  appealed  to  her  more  strongly  than  the 
heroism  of  tradition  and  conviction.  She  found  something 
finer  and  worthier  of  homage  in  self-sacrifice  on  behalf  of  the 
wronged,  however  short-sighted  and  illogical,  than  in  the  iron- 
nerved  championing  of  any  human  arrangements  or  order  of 
things  whatsoever. 

When  Robert  Chauncey  judged  it  safe  to  awake,  she  was 
examining  some  trifle  with  a  neutral  expression  of  counte- 


144 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


nance,  and  not  even  a  flush  that  he  could  be  sure  of.  At  the 
same  time  Mr.  Armstrong  revived  suddenly,  and  his  broad, 
sunny  face  beamed  paternally  upon  him. 

"  I  hope  you  are  refreshed  by  your  repose,  sir,"  said  he. 

"Very  much,"  answered  Robert.  "This  sort  of  thing  will 
soon  make  me  well." 

There  was  an  encouraging  elasticity  in  his  voice,  perhaps 
there  was  an  involuntary  tone  of  allusion  as  well ;  for  Jessica's 
nearer  eye  drew  suspiciously  toward  him,  and  there  was  no 
doubt  of  the  flush  on  her  cheek  now. 

"  If  this  happy  convalescence  continues,  w^  shall  be  able  to 
remove  you  very  soon  to  more  congenial  quarters,"  said  her 
uncle's  rich,  hopeful  voice. 

"  I  have  tried  worse,"  replied  Chauncey,  with  a  slight  shiver. 
''*  I  mean  when  I  was  hung.  That  was  a  very  bad  case  of 
suspended  animation,  or  suspended  something.  The  environ- 
ment, as  Darwin  would  say,  didn't  harmonize.  But  tJiis  is 
very  pleasant,  especially " 

"  Hush,  you  are  talking  too  much,"  said  Jessica,  shaking 
her  finger  at  him  in  unmerciful  interruption.  Then  turning  to 
her  uncle  she  said,  decidedly,  "  He  must  not  stay  here  another 
night." 

But  Mr.  Armstrong  had  an  archaic  reverence  for  medical 
prerogatives.     He  replied — 

"  My  dear,  in  these  matters  we  are  at  the  mercy  of  the 
doctors." 

"  Oh,  /  know,"  she  retorted,  wisely. 

Chauncey,  who  was  watching  her  with  a  placid  sense  of 
delight,  read  in  her  accent  and  emphasis — 

"  I  have  brought  several  'doctors'  to  terms  in  my  day." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me  ?"  he  asked,  presently- 
"  Have  you  any  serious  intentions? — as  the  mouse  said  to  the 
cat." 

"  Oh,  we'll  take  care  of  you — Jessica  knows,"  she  responded 
cheerily,  with  her  old-time  little  bird-like  toss  of  the  head. 


WHEN   PAIN  AND   ANGUISH  WRING  THE  BROW.' 


45 


"  Oh,  very  well,  answered  he,"  settling  himself  comfortably  ; 
"'  I  can  stand  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  thing." 

Jessica  rose  quietly  and  went  out  of  the  house.  She  had 
caught  the  sound  of  approaching  wheels,  and  rightly  con- 
jectured that  the  potentate  of  whom  they  had  spoken  was  at 
hand,  for  very  few  vehicles  travelled  that  lonely  road-like 
street.  Robert  Chauncey  could  hear  by  a  little  effort  the  low 
persuasive  hum  of  her  voice,  now  rising  into  more  excited 
earnestness  as  if  to  overcome  some  obstacle,  now  dropping 
into  silence  with  a  **  dying  fall,"  which  suggested  a  whole 
battery  of  arch,*sidelong  blandishment.  He  could  hear,  too, 
the  whimsical  astonishment  in  the  male  tones  o[  replv;  but 
acquiescence  seemed  to  be  gaining  upon  it,  and  he  knew  per- 
fectly well  how  the  battle  would  go.  He  could  hardly  keep 
his  features  in  respectful  trim  while  the  surgeon  made  his  pro 
fonnd  examination,  and  uttered  his  prescribed  verdict.  He 
could  see  then  and  thereafter  that  Roger  Armstrong's  benevo- 
lent aspect  was  tempered  with  a  good  deal  of  shrewd  mirth 
and  some  little  disquietude ;  but  even  an  extorted  official 
assent,  backed  by  the  beloved  Jessica's  zeal  and  active  will, 
carried  too  much  weight  to  be  resisted  by  the  older  man 
while  the  younger  was  very  willing  to  accept  the  risk  for  the 
compensation  which  it  brought. 

Of  course  Jessica's  affectionate  interest  in  Robert  Chauncey 
was  deepened  and  heightened  by  the  reparation  she  was  mak- 
inof,  and  the  kindnesses  which  she  had  done  and  designed  to 
do.  Something  curiously  like  the  maternal  feeling  was  de- 
veloped in  her  by  the  certainty  that  he  would  be  definitely 
under  her  wing  until  his  recovery.  He  smiled  whene\  er  he 
thought  of  it  with  a  gentle  and  hopeful  sense  of  amusement; 
but  assuredly  neither  respected  nor  loved  her  the  less  for  this 
womanly  patronage. 

His    removal  was    (without   explanation)  postponed    untd 

after  dark,  in  order  to  avoid   the  funeral  of  Charlotte's  son, 

which  had  been  set  for  that  afternoon.     In  spite  of  his  moral 

and    social    eccentricities,  "Brother    John"  had    contrived    to 

II 


146  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

keep  up  a  sort  of  intermittently  backsliding  membership  in  a 
populous  and  frantic  negro  "society"  or  congregation,  where 
(when  out  of  the  hands  of  the  law)  he  was  held  in  a  sort  of 
uneasy  esteem,  based  upon  his  professions  of  grace  and  the 
certainty  of  his  vigor.  He  had  also  found  it  politic  to  belong 
to  various  mysterious  organizations  for  mutual  aid  and  glori- 
fying, which  lavished  nouns  and  adjectives  on  their  corporate 
titles  as  freely  as  they  decked  the  persons  of  their  units  in  all 
that  was  cheap  and  tawdry — quaint  and  multitudinous  out- 
flowerings  of  the  gregarious  African  nature,  exacting  little 
except  stylish  Sunday  clothes  and  punctilious  attendance  at 
meetings  during  life ;  and  guaranteeing  sumptuous  obsequies 
afterwards.  All  these  now  gathered  to  follow  his  coffin. 
Jessica  and  her  uncle  on  their  return  were  a  little  startled 
when  they  saw  the  stupendousness  of  the  preparations. 

"  Zounds  and  death  !"  exclaimed  Roger,  with  unwitting 
relevancy.  *'  Is  this  a  foreign  ambassador  whom  you  have 
been  entertaining  unawares  ?" 

"An  ambassador  from  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  I  reckon," 
cried  his  grandson,  with  a  boyish  snort  of  dislike  and  defi- 
ance. 

The  words  impressed  Jessica  as  she  stood  looking  out  of  a 
neighboring  window.  Then  there  was  a  great  solemn  blare 
of  brass  instruments,  and  the  pageant  of  living  ebony  stirred. 
On  they  moved — the  black-faced  band  of  musicians  with  the 
massive  tubes  that  shone  like  gold,  the  sombre  hearse,  and 
the  polished  blackness  of  the  lines  of  hired  carriages,  the 
black  battalion  of  militia  in  uniform  with  sparkling  bayonets, 
and  the  array  of  black  societies  in  and  out  of  regalia,  with 
their  finery  lighted  into  gorgeousness  by  the  sunset.  The 
more  Jessica  gazed  after  them  and  listened  to  the  slowly  dy- 
ing music,  the  more  the  fancy  gained  upon  her  that  she  had 
witnessed  a  procession  of  evil  spirits  bearing  a  lost  soul  to  its 
doom.  Then,  with  a  sense  of  its  morbidness,  she  turned 
abruptly  away,  wishing  that  Robert  Chauncey  were  present 
to  occupy  her  mind  with  something  better  and  brighter. 


"WHEN   PAIN  AND  ANGUISH   WRING  THE  BROW."  147- 

If  Captain  Hawksley  had  witnessed  that  funeral,  he  would 
have  been  amused  to  see  his  policeman  stalking  along  in  re- 
splendent trappings  behind  the  hearse  of  the  slain  ruffian  who 
had  lately  sought  his  life — not  in  any  romantic  stretch  of 
generosity,  nor  with  any  sense  of  incongruity,  but  simply  to 
render  the  usual  routine  honors  to  an  Amalgamated  Relative 
of  Moses. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

"  THIS    MAD    WORLD — GIGMANITY." 

During  Captain  Hawksley's  service  as  an  atoner  and  good 
Samaritan,  his  soul,  though  not  without  some  aches  and 
pangs,  had  been  softened  and  warmed  as  by  sunshine,  and 
even  after  he  left  the  spot  ah  aronm  of  cheerfulness  seemed 
to  keep  him  company.  But  as  his  distance  increased,  this 
blessing  diminished,  until  he  was  out  in  spirit  on  the  darkened 
waste  of  commons  agam. 

He  entered  the  c-ars  a  moody,  lowering  man.  As  the 
train  worked  away  faster  and  faster,  the  trees  raced  past  or 
wheeled  soberly  in  distant  procession,  and  he  seemed  to  see 
everything  in  his  life  resolving  itself  into  a  phantasmal  mock- 
ery of  endeavor.  What  had  come  of  all  his  fervent  beliefs  and 
strenuous,  unsparing  efforts?  "The  sacred  political  creed  of 
his  youth"  had  gone  down  under  overwhelming  force,  and 
even  those  who  had  been  its  partizans  were  beginning  to 
distrust,  if  not  to  deride  it.  All  hopes  of  restoration  now 
seemed  like  vapors.  He  felt  that  there  would  be  some- 
thing unfit  and  portentous  in  bringing  to  life  a  long-buried 
corpse — a  vampire  visitant  that  the  world  would  shrink 
from  and  abhor.  He  did  not  regret  anything  that  he  had 
done  in  behalf  of  that  eternally  lost  cause,  nor  doubt  that  it 
had  the  very  highest  sanction.  Nor  did  he  arraign  the  Divine 
righteousness  :  he  only  conceived  of  it  as  persistently  and 
unalterably  decreeing  the  very  reverse  of  itself,  and  bringing 
confusion  on  its  loyal  champions.  And  withal,  the  trees 
hurried  by  as  if  to  overtake  some  opportunity,  or  turned  their 


"THIS    MAD    WORLD-GIGMAMTY."  I4Q 

wheeling-  into  whirling  as  though  suddenly  made  aware  of  the 
exceeding  value  of  time — yet  verily  stirred  not. 

In  the  great  downfall  much  else  had  gone  down;  and  under 
the  shadow  of  his  present  mood  his  whole  career  seemed  a 
sad  failure.  His  boyhood's  crude  aspirations,  the  maturer 
resolves  of  worldly-wise  manhood,  his  vehement  endeavors  to 
make  himself  felt  in  arms,  in  politics,  in  the  world  of  letters — 
he  seemed  to  stand  amid  the  cold  relics  and  ruins  of  all. 
And  that  dearer  ambition  of  the  heart  which  might  have  so 
consoled  him  for  every  other  loss,  which,  he  had  fancied, 
might  indeed,  have  restored  everything — he  would  not  suffer 
his  mind  to  dwell  on  it;  yet  that  loss  undeniably  entered  into 
and  darkened  every  thought.  The  end  of  everything  would 
be  welcom.e.  He  was  weary  of  shows  and  futilities,  of  hopes 
fondly  held  and  duty  w^ell  done,  which  yet  came  to  nothing. 
And  now,  as  though  the  universe  agreed  with  him,  all  that 
was  respectable  in  human  institutions  were  wrestling  hope- 
lessly with  the  whirlwind  and  the  earthquake.  And  still  the 
pine  pillars  sped  by,  and  the  weightier  oaks  of  the  back- 
ground circled  like  dancers  in  a  colossal  "hands-all-round" — 
yet  assuredly  the  morrow's  sun  would  find  them  in  their 
accustomed  places. 

While  his  mind  was  thus  scowling  at  grievous  topics.  Cap- 
ital suddenly  made  itself  audible  to  him  in  the  salutation — 

"Why,  friend  Hawksley,  how  is  your  good  health?" 

The  tone  had  that  sort  of  surface  jollity  which  one  always 
fancies  to  have  been  originally  adopted  as  a  good  invest- 
ment, though  it  may  have  grown  into  a  habit.  There  was  a 
comfortableness  about  it  as  of  a  soul  just  risen  from  the 
softest  of  down,  and  assured  of  finding  similar  provision 
made  for  it  through  life.  Its  prosperous  imperturbability 
seemed  consummate  impudence  to  Hawksley's  haughty  tem- 
per. He  looked  the  man  over,  from  his  softly-padded  cheeks 
and  full  person  (with  a  symbolical  aggressiveness  of  gold 
chains  and  seals  and  studs,  on  a  ground  of  black  and  white,) 
to   his   slee].:ly-fi]led  pantaloons,  newly  from  the  tailor's,  and 


50 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


straddling  a  little  to  offset  the  swaying  of  the  cars.  Then  he 
looked  him  over  again,  up  from  the  unbulging  knees  and 
well-fed  abdomen  to  the  hail-fellow-well-met  blue  eyes,  and 
answered — 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  sir." 

"  Why,  confound  it,"  cried  the  other,  not  at  all  disconcerted, 
*'  don't  you  remember  a  certain  young  devil  of  a  lootenant 
that  you  didn't  hang  in  the  days  of  the  re " 

" — taliation,"  put  in  Hawksley,  with  something  like  a  sedate 
smile.  "Ah!  yes — Mr.  Coleman,  I  think?  I  did  not  intend 
any  discourtesy;  but  you  are  not  the  same  kyind  of  man  that 
you  used  to  be — in  physique  I  mean." 

As  he  spoke  he  made  room  for  his  ex-enemy,  though  in 
truth  such  company  did  not  please  him.  His  dislike  for  the 
"plutocracy"  was  certainly  very  different  from  the  hostility  of 
the  strikers  ;  but  it  was  hardly  less  pronounced. 

"  I  regyarded  it  as  strange,  he  continued,  *'  that  such  a 
stripling  should  have  a  commission." 

"  Yes  ?"  answered  Coleman.  "  Well,  there  was  some  money 
in  the  family — as  you  may  have  happened  to  hear  ;"  and  he 
stroked  his  taut  rounded  waistcoat  with  the  air  of  one  who 
refrains  from  his  lawful  privilege  of  boasting. 

Hawksley  did  recollect  hearing  that  this  young  man's 
father  had  raked  so  much  money  out  of  cinders  and  refuse, 
that  now  some  thousands  of  men  (when  not  on  a  strike)  were 
doine  the  rakincj;  for  him,  and  multitudinous  varieties  of  pick- 
ing  and  hammering  as  well.  When  a  base  materia^  could  be 
so  readily  transformed  into  a  rarer  one,  or  a  lower  form  of 
carbon  into  a  higher,  the  same  expeditious  process  might  well 
seem  applicable  to  mankind.  But  Coleman  was  not  yet  a 
diamond  in  Hawksley's  eyes  ;  so  the  latter  merely  bowed  with 
a  neutral  air. 

Compelled  to  take  the  initiative,  Coleman  inquired,  in  a 
voice  where  cordiality  struggled  against  depression — 

"  Well,  how  goes  it  with  you,  friend  Hawksley  ?  Have  you 
found  the  avenoo  to  riches?     Have  you  made  ycur  pile  yet?' 


"THIS    MAD    WORLD— GIGMANITY."  I5I 

'*  I  have  not  even  made  the  attempt."  answered  Hawksley, 
who  was  being-  initiated  into  active  contempt  by  this  refrain 
of  the  almighty  dollar. 

Coleman  looked  at  him  as  at  somc-ding  incomprehensible. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  rather  weary  prolongation  on  the 
last  sound.  He  turned  to  his  newspaper  for  a  moment;  but 
presently  looked  up  again  rather  excitedly,  saying  :  "  Listen 
to  this,"  and  read,  "  'A  general  foreboding  of  continued  dis- 
asters to  life  and  property  occupies  the  public  mind.'  " 

He  laid  down  the  journal,  and  asked:  "  What  do  you  think 
of  that  ?  " 

"I  think 'the  public  mind'  evinces  abnormal  good  sense," 
replied  Hawksley,  calmly. 

"  That's  very  well  for  you,"  said  Coleman,  with  a  rueful 
grimace  ;  "but  it's  pretty  rough  noos  to  a  man  who  has  ever 
so  much  money  at  the  mercy  of  the  ugliness  of  those  fellows. 
Wliat  is  one  to  do?" 

"  Fight,"  answered  Hawksley.  **  Only  you  diskyarded  your 
best  chance  fifteen  years  ago." 

"I  understand,"  replied  Coleman,  after  a  minute's  puzzling; 
""  but  I  don't  agree.  However,  I  hope  you  will  be  on  the 
right  side  this  time." 

"  I  fought  for  the  rights  of  property  before,  and  I  am  pre- 
pared to  fight  for  the  rights  of  property  again." 

Coleman  twisted  his  face  awry  with,  "  There  are  various 
kinds  of  property ;"  then,  summoning  his  not  easily  van- 
quished jollity,  he  cried:  "Come  over  into  Macedonia  and 
help  us.  I  am  bound  for  Philadelphia  now.  Our  regiment 
is  ordered  to  Pittsburgh  to-night.     PU  smuggle  you  in." 

"  I  decline  smuggling,"  answered  the  captain,  wondering  as 
he  spoke  whether  Pittsburgh  were  not  after  all  the  spot  where 
he  would  be  most  likely  to  find  Vamper. 

"  I  didn't  mean  tliat''  replied  Coleman.  "  You  shall  go  in 
with  all  honors.  You  will  like  it,  I  can  assure  you — a  first- 
rate  set  of  men.  In  our  regiment  there  are  relations  of  some 
of  the  richest  men  in  Philadelphia." 


152 


CYPRESS   BEACH. 


Hawksley  drew  away  a  little,  involuntarily,  but  he  an- 
swered, "  I  volunteer."  In  his  heart  he  was  thinking, 
"Shoulder  to  shoulder  with  money-grabbers  and  abolition- 
ists." But  he  had  never  let  fastidiousness  stand  in  the  way 
of  duty,  and  he  would  not  now. 

In  Baltimore  they  found  the  air  full  of  the  rumors  and  even 
the  sounds  of  conflict.  At  the  very  time  of  their  brief  halt,  a 
disorderly  regiment  of  militia  was  fighting  its  way  through 
the  lower  streets,  repulsing  charge  after  charge  of  a  furious 
mob,  and  firing  volleys  in  all  directions  :  while  bewildered 
people  were  dropping  here  and  there  in  doorways  and  along 
the  pavement. 

On  reaching  Philadelphia,  Coleman  and  Hawksley  promptly 
repaired  to  the  headquarters  of  the  First  Regiment,  and  the 
new  recruit  was  gladly  accepted  in  place  of  a  doughty  mem- 
ber who  had  pressing  business  elsewhere.  The  expedition 
set  forth  without  delay,  consisting  of  two  regiments  of  in- 
fantry and  an  artillery  company. 

On  the  way  to  Pittsburgh,  Hawksley  noticed  with  a  slight 
deepening  of  foreboding,  that  his  companions  seemed  to  have 
a  very  inadequate  conception  of  the  task  before  them..  They 
were  a  trim  set  of  young  fellows  for  the  most  part,  drawn 
largely  from  the  counters  and  offices  of  their  city,  and  ready 
enough  to  try  conclusions  (in  no  spirit  of  "brotherly  love") 
with  the  upsetters  who  menaced  their  livelihood  and  comfort; 
but  the  prevalent  expectation  was  that  there  would  be  just 
fighting  enough  to  furnish  a  staple  for  future  anecdotes,  leav- 
ing them  free  to  return  speedily  as  victors,  with  a  fine  crop  of 
laurels  and  an  admiring  audience. 

About  noon  of  the  next  day  they  stepped  out  of  the  cars  in 
Pittsburgh,  watched  by  groups  of  idlers  who  ventured  sly 
shafts  of  satire.  There  was  no  lack  of  leisure  in  the  city  at 
that  time.  The  great  strike  of  the  railway  men  had  spread  to 
the  retainers  of  nearly  every  manufacture,  and  had  brought  to 
a  standstill  the  business  of  many  tradesmen  and  unattached 
mechanics   who    depended    upon   them    for    support.     These 


"THIS    MAD   WORLD-GIGMANITY."  I  53 

were  all  at  liberty  to  compare  grievMnces  on  corners  and  in 
bar-rooms,  and  incite  one  another  to  measures  of  resistance 
and  retaliation.  There  were  grimy  coal  miners,  too,  and 
canal  men,  and  behind  the  rest,  waiting  their  chance,  the  rep- 
resentatives of  a  great  mass  of  prowling  crime,  fostered  by 
public  distress,  and  scenting  something  not  yet  to  be  spoken 
of. 


CHAPTER    XXIIL 

"to  death  utterly." 

As  the  young  soldiers  looked  on  the  sneering  or  scowling 
faces  round  them  their  gaiety  was  moderated,  but  they  had  as 
yet  no  serious  misgiving.  There  was  every  readiness  to  obey, 
when,  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  they  were  ordered 
out  in  support  of  the  sheriff  and  his  posse,  to  clear  the  rail- 
way tracks  near  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  which  were  now 
occupied  and  obstructed  by  a  large  crowd. 

On  their  appearance,  the  latter  set  up  a  series  of  derisive 
calls  and  cries,  steadily  refusing  to  withdraw.  Pending  the 
efforts  of  the  civil  authorities,  the  troops  were  halted  on  a 
network  of  tracks,  with  the  battery  a  little  above  them.  On 
each  side  was  rough,  open  ground,  having  houses  sparsely 
scattered  over  it — none  very  near.  In  front  was  a  rather  steep 
hillside  of  yellow  clay,  washed  and  gullied  by  rains,  and  tra- 
versed by  ditches,  its  peculiar  hue  contrasting  in  patches  with 
the  dark  groups  which  almost  covered  it.  These  overflowed 
from  the  base,  enveloping  the  flanks  o{  the  expedition. 

Not  all  of  these  people  were  active  rioters.  Old  men,  loit- 
erers, and  women,  had  been  led  to  the  spot  in  numbers  ;  and 
not  a  few  children  had  left  their  play  to  gaze  at  the  bright 
uniforms  and  partake  of  the  prevailing  excitement. 

Most  of  the  adults,  even,  were  too  ignorant  to  understand 
their  peril.  They  could  hardly  believe  that  any  troops  would 
dare  the  impiety  of  firing  on  the  "  working  men,"  the  "  peo- 
ple," the  voting  sovereigns  of  the  land.  Had  they  not  been 
told  year  after  year,  in  print  and  public  speech  (and  especially 


TO    DEATH   UTTERLY." 


55 


whenever  election  time  drew  near),  that  they  were  on  an  equal 
footing  with  kings?  And  what  was  it  they  demanded? — 
nothing  but  a  fair  share  in  the  great  division  going  on  about 
them.  True,  direful  news  had  com^j  from  Baltimore,  but  that 
city  was  far  away,  and  associated  with  past  tales  of  rebellion 
and  bloodshed;  and  it  rather  added  to  their  exasperation  and 
pugnacity,  by  reminding  them  t^at  these  bayonets  and  bullets 
were  a  threat,  however  impotent,  of  terrible  evils  and  suffering. 
The  fact  that  the  threat  came  from  a  rival  city,  which  had 
always  overshadowed  their  own,  put  compromise  almost  out 
of  the  question. 

The  sheriff  and  his  men  after  a  brief  colloquy  were  rudely 
repelled,  and  the  crowd  pressed  after  them  almost  against  the 
troops,  not  at  all  in  awe  of  the  weapons;  on  the  contrary,  they 
seemed  half  minded  to  take  them  for  toys. 

Feeling  in  a  manner  straitened,  and  seeing  that  matters 
were  growing  more  serious,  the  militia  were  ordered  to  form 
a  square.  The  crowd  impeded  this  movement  in  every  way, 
even  jostling  the  men  amid  loud  hootings,  and  in  some  in- 
stances striving  to  wrench  their  muskets  away.  Thus  far, 
however,  there  was  an  infatuated  contempt  in  the  demeanor 
of  the  mob,  almost  amounting  to  good  humor.  They  were 
like  a  gang  of  boys  hauling  about  a  powerful  but  harmless 
animal,  whose  very  capabilities  to  do  injury  only  increase  the 
fun.  "You  wouldn't  stick  working  men  with  tlicin  things? 
You  wouldn't  order  zvorking  men  about,  would  you  ?"  were 
the  ironical  queries  on  all  sides. 

However,  this  slight  collision  heated  the  blood,  and  the 
inertness  of  the  young  soldiers  (who  were  beginning  to  look 
stunned  and  uncertain)  gave  their  opponents  a  sense  of 
triumph. 

"A  foine  lot  o'  doughfaces  to  come  an'  boss  us,"  clamored 
the  throng,  which  was  not  without  its  Hibernian  elements. 
Its  members  were  as  near  as  before  at  every  point,  leering  and 
jeering  into  the  faces  of  the  men,  and  jostling  forward  with 
spasmodic  starts  which  threatened  to  end  in  a  general  bodily 
precipitation  upon  them. 


156  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

At  this  juncture  the  companies  facing  Yellowside  were 
ordered  to  advance  and  clear  the  space  immediately  before 
them.  This  they  did  rather  nervously,  with  lowered  bayo- 
nets, helped  by  the  unchanging  composure  of  Hawksley  and 
one  or  two  other  veterans  among  them.  The  crowd,  taken  by 
surprise,  dissolved  at  that  point  without  even  a  prick  of  the 
steel ;  not  stopping  to  argue  the  question,  but  rushing  away 
in  tumbling  groups,  which  glanced  back  over  their  shoulders 
to  see  what  had  so  quickly  discomfited  them.  Before  they 
began  to  reassemble,  the  troops  were  back  in  the  square 
again. 

Hawksley  had  now  an  opportunity  to  look  around.  That 
feeling  of  unreality,  of  being  in  a  dream,  which  often  accom- 
panies rapid  shifting  of  place  and  surroundings,  had  been  with 
him  ever  since  he  had  left  Washington;  and  he  had  known 
that  the  dream  would  end  in  a  nightmare.  He  now  felt  that 
the  nightmare  was  at  hand.  There  is  always  something  pre- 
ternatural in  human  passions  of  the  fiercer  and  darker  sort 
when  aroused  in  great  masses  of  men  and  spreading  by  con- 
tagion. You  cannot  but  look  for  the  shadowy  whisperer 
behind  the  show,  who  sways  them  all  with  the  combined 
power  of  an  elem.ental  force  and  a  sinister  will.  Hawksley 
felt  this — and  watched. 

Meanwhile  the  eastern  side  of  the  square  had  been  ordered 
to  advance  in  its  turn.  This  time  there  was  no  surprise.  The 
masses  previously  dispersed  were  gathering  again,  all  the 
more  ireful  for  some  twinges  of  shame,  and  calling  on  their 
comrades  not  to  yield.  The  latter  did  give  way,  nevertheless; 
but  there  was  a  tussle  at  several  points,  and  one  of  the  militia- 
men, finding  himself  overmatched,  thrust  sharply  with  his 
bayonet.  He  probably  had  no  clear  idea  of  what  he  was 
doing,  but  all  the  same  the  blood  ran. 

From  that  moment  the  aspect  of  the  contest  changed. 
There  was  no  more  mirth,  even  of  a  sarcastic  and  scornful 
sort.  Before  the  Grays  had  returned  to  their  places  in  the 
square,  stones  began  falling  among  them  and  behind  them 


TO   DEATH   UTTERLY." 


157 


and  this  pelting  spread  and  grew  on  all  sides,  accompanied  by 
an  uproar  of  threats,  curses,  and  hideous  inarticulated  sounds. 
Here  and  there  disordered  figures  with  wild  action  pressed 
throui^h  the  mob,  imparting  their  real  or  simulated  fury. 
More  than  once  Hawksky  thought  he  recognized  for  a  mo- 
ment the  face  for  which  he  was  watching. 

The  soldier-clerks,  stung  and  smitten  by  missiles  of  ev^ery 
size,  and  half  bewildered  by  the  storm  of  execration  round 
them,  were  in  a  state  to  be  carried  away  by  any  desperate  im- 
pulse. First  one  rifle  was  discharged;  then  another.  Then 
Hawksley  heard  Coleman  exclaim  excitedly,  "Look  yonder, 
he's  aiming  at  us.  Not  much,  by  Joshua!"  and  the  report  of 
his  piece  made  the  third.  Almost  simultaneously,  a  working 
man,  some  rods  up  the  slope  in  front  of  them,  staggered  for- 
ward with  a  half-poised  shot-gun,  which  tipped  upwards  as  he 
fell,  discharging  both  barrels  into  the  air. 

The  crowd  scattered  from  about  him  as  from  a  place  where 
lightning  had  struck  ;  and  in  the  opening  thus  unexpectedly 
made,  Ishmael  Vamper  stood  plainly  revealed.  His  eye 
glanced  to  right  and  left,  as  if  in  search  of  shelter ;  then 
seeing  that  he  must  rely  on  his  own  arts  alone,  he  began  a 
series  of  seemingly  automatic  movements,  advancing  and  re- 
ceding, swerving  and  straightening,  bowing  and  rising,  leap- 
ing and  sinking,  expanding  and  contracting,  all  with  such 
marvellous  rapidity,  and  accompanied  by  such  fantastic  leers, 
grimaces  and  gestures,  as  might  well  ha\'e  disordered  any 
aim.  It  is  not  often  that  one  dances  and  plays  pranks  for  his 
life. 

Hawksley  understood  it  all,  and  knew  the  inevitable  result 
quite  as  well  as  Vamper  did.  There  was  an  assured  serenity 
on  his  brow  as  the  gunstock  flew  to  his  shoulder;  and  the 
barrel  settling  exactly  to  its  level,  followed  the  erratic  motions 
of  its  living  target.  The  sound  of  its  discharge  blended  vA'h 
the  command  *'  Fire!"  and  the  fusillade  on  each  side  of  him. 
Then  the  duly  authorized  ball  was  sent  on  a  very  special  and 
private  errand. 


158  CYPRESS   BEACH. 

At  once  the  expression  of  mockery  flitted  from  Vamper's 
face,  and  something  shot  into  the  latter  which  might  have 
been  a  shrill,  inhuman  cry  made  visible.  Every  lineament 
was  wrung  into  appalling  shapes,  that  yet  seemed  strangely 
natural.  It  was  more  like  the  dropping  of  a  mask  than  a. 
transformation.  Even  the  outblaze  of  an  inner  hate  beyond 
conception  was  overcast  by  the  deeper  horror  of  a  foreknown 
and  long  baffled  doom.  For  a  moment  his  whole  frame  was' 
stretched  and  thrilled  into  abnormal  height,  both  hands  beat- 
ing the  air  violently  backward,  as  if  in  an  effort  to  repeL 
Then  he  suddenly  disappeared,  as  the  fleeing  crowd  rushed 
against  and  over  him. 

'*  My  God  !"  cried  Coleman.     "  What  a  face  !" 

"  He  has  gone  where  he  came  from,"  said  Hawksley,  de- 
liberately re-loading. 

Coleman  glanced  at  him  curiously;  then,  taking  the  speech 
for  one  of  those  platitudes  which  we  favor  death  with,  he  re- 
plied— 

"  Well,  I  guess  we  must  all  do  that.  Here  goes  !"  and  he 
fired  again. 

The  militia-men  had  now  passed  beyond  the  control  even  of 
themselves,  and  continued  blazing  and  flashing  in  all  direc- 
tions— up  the  tracks,  along  the  cross-streets,  over  the  open 
lots,  into  the  hillside — in  a  word,  wherever  any  human  being 
was  to  be  seen — until  the  absence  of  targets  made  them  pause. 

After  the  first  volley  there  had  been  no  resistance.  It  had 
stricken  into  the  crowd  like  summer  lightning  into  a  throng 
of  cattle.  They  had  scarcely  realized  what  it  meant  until  men 
began  dropping  here  and  there  all  over  Yellowside.  The 
hooting  and  stone-throwing  abruptly  ceased.  A  few  tumbled 
pell-mell  into  ditches  or  crouched  behind  inequalities  of  the 
ground ;  the  remainder  scrambled  away  incontinently,  im- 
peding and  trampling  one  another,  until  at  last  the  field  was 
clear.  Then  the  expedition  marched  back  again  and  took  up 
its  station  in  proximity  to  the  round-house,  a  strongly-built 
brick  structure  with  considerable  wood-work  overhead. 


"TO   DEATH  UTTERLY.'!-^  ICQ 

They  were  beginning  to  feel  already  that  a  tower  of  refuge 
might  be  needed.  So  far  were  they  from  being  elated  by  their 
success  that  it  had  cowed  them  even  more  than  their  oppo- 
nents. They  had  stayed  long  enough  after  the  fight  to  see 
their  work  siripped  of  all  romantic  accessories.  They  had 
counted  the  little  children  who  were  writhing  and  shrieking 
with  pain  or  lying  very  still  forever.  They  had  heard  the 
curses  shrieked  down  to  them  by  mothers  reckless  with 
grief — meanly-clad,  kneeling  mothers,  who  tossed  wild  arms 
over  their  slain  sons.  They  knew  that  the  great  aggregate  of 
public  opinion  around  them  would  look  more  to  these  results 
than  to  their  motives  or  technical  authorization.  They  had 
not  been  long  enough  segregated  from  their  kind  to  acquire 
the  regulars'  machine-like  assurance  of  conscience  and  of 
nerve ;  and  in  the  reflected  light  of  popular  reprobation,  they 
could  not  but  shrink  with  a  guilty  and  disabled  feeling. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

"  MEN    SCARCELY    KNOW    HOW    BEAUTIFUL    FIRE    IS." 

Before  long  a  distant  hubbub — gathering,  shifting,  indeter- 
minate— reached  the  ears  of  the  mihtia,  and  stealthy  friends 
brought  them  rumors  which  were  scarcely  more  definite  and 
quite  as  menacing.  They  heard  that  men  who  were  sup- 
posed to  be  their  partizans  had  already  been  beaten  and  even 
killed ;  that  excited  mobs  were  parading  various  streets  with 
drums  and  banners  ;  that  a  general  pillaging  of  gun-shops 
was  in  progress ;  and  that  the  United  States  armory,  as  well 
as  the  city  itself,  was  in  the  hands  of  the  rioters.  Soon  half- 
armed  and  very  truculent  groups  began  to  show  themselves 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  troops  were  ordered  within  the 
round-house.  This  movement  was  encouraged  by  dropping 
shots  from  the  background,  which  continued  even  after  they 
were  thus  hidden.  No  harm  was  done,  but  one  or  two 
bullets  came  in  at  the  windows  and  traversed  the  building  in 
the  space  above  their  heads  with  a  most  venomous  and  pro- 
phetic sound. 

Hawksley  and  Coleman  stood  beside  one  of  these  openings, 
peering  out  cautiously  with  sombre  faces,  and  listening  to  the 
deepening  roar. 

"  Beyond  a  doubt  they  have  taken  the  city,"  said  the 
former,  "  and  now  they  are  coming  to  pay  their  regyards  to 
us.     What's  this  in  a  cyart  ?" 

"  They've  captured  Hutchinson's  battery,"  cried  Coleman, 
in  consternation. 

160 


"MEN   SCARCELY   KNOW   HOW   BEAUTIFUL   FIRE   IS."  l6l 

"There's  only  one  gun,"  answered  Hawksley,  "and  wretch- 
edly mounted.  Something  must  be  broken.  Now,  then,  look 
to  yourselves." 

The  last  sentence  was  addressed  to  an  audience  out  of  hear- 
ing. As  he  spoke  he  sighted  deliberately  at  a  man  who  was 
trying  to  get  the  half-disabled  piece  into  position,  and  pressed 
the  trigger.  The  living  target  fell,  and  the  gun  tumbled 
partly  over  him,  dragging  down  one  or  two  more  of  the  riot- 
ers in  its  fall.  Before  they  could  extricate  themselves,  a 
sharp  fire  was  opened  from  the  windows  of  the  round-house, 
and  another  man  was  killed.  Then  the  throng  about  the 
overthrown  cannon  scattered  for  awhile.  Indeed,  they  never 
afterward  succeeded  in  making  it  useful. 

By  this  time  the  mob  was  larger  than  the  one  dispersed 
that  morning,  and  infinitely  fiercer.  There  was  a  tigerish 
sound  in  their  yells  which  made  the  hearer's  blood  chill  and 
flutter.  Fresh  accessions  were  continually  pouring  in  from 
all  quarters,  exhibiting  their  spoils  and  weapons  amid  shrill 
cries  of  welcome. 

While  the  besiegers  were  thus  working  themselves  into  a 
frenzy,  the  wagons  containing  the  rations  for  the  besieged 
came  into  view.  At  once  ensued  a  scene  which  was  a  start- 
ling reminder  of  the  bread  riots  that  preceded  the  Reign  of 
Terror.  Men  in  all  imaginable,  unkempt  costumes  swarmed 
over  the  wagons,  gorging  themselves  like  spirits  of  famine, 
scattering  the  fragments  broadcast  and  trampling  them  in 
the  mire,  howling,  hooting,  dancing — behaving,  in  short,  like 
most  approved  French  revolutionary  demons.  The  whole 
concourse  screamed  in  derision  at  the  sallow-faced  crew  in 
the  round-house,  who  would  sup  on  curses  only. 

"  Great  heaven  !  look  at  that !"  exclainied  Coleman.  "And 
I  would  give  a  thousand  dollars  for  something  solid  to  eat !" 

"  There    are    some   things    that    money    cannot    compass," 
replied    Hawksley,    with    slightly    satirical    sedateness.      "A 
panther    cannot    be    induced    to    trade,  nor    will    he    accept 
ransom." 
12 


1 62  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

"  No,  I  guess  not,"  assented  Coleman,  ruefully.  "  I  wonder 
whether  these  excitable  gentry  will  eat  its.  That  would  be 
be  a  consumption  of  home  manufactures.  I  have  always 
been  in  favor  of  protection,  but  I  never  wanted  it  so  badly 
as  now." 

Hawksley  smiled  encouragingly  at  this  effort  to  brew  a 
little  jollity  and  hardihood.  Then  he  said  in  all  serious- 
ness— 

"  If  you  escape,  and  I  die,  will  you  be  kyind  enough  to 
take  this  kyard  to  friends  in  Washington — to  the  young 
lady  whose  address  I  have  penciled  there  ?" 

"  Certainly,  old  fellow,"  answered  Coleman,  reaching  for 
the  card,  and  evidently  reassured  by  the  chance  to  show 
good  nature.  "  But  don't  talk  about  dying — it's  not  cheer- 
ful. What's  this  ?  *  Two  of  your  former  guests  are  gone. 
Good-bye,  and  may  God  Almighty  bless  you  and  yours 
forever  and  ever !"  Well,  of  all  the  messages  to  send  to  a 
young  lady !" 

"  Will  you  take  it  ?"  asked  Hawksley,  frowning. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  answered  the  other,  with  conciliating  alac- 
rity. "  It  will  be  a  most  pleasant  dooty.  I  mean — confound 
it — I'd  give  just  ten  thousand  dollars  to  be  out  of  this  place." 

Hawksley  bowed  his  thanks,  but  did  not  speak.  His  mind 
was  settling  into  the  solemn  mood  of  one  who  has  done  with 
earthly  interests,  except  the  dear  friends  left  behind.  "  God 
bless  her  bright  face,"  thought  he,  "  she  will  be  safe  now,  and 
happy;  and  she  will  not  utterly  forget."  Then  the  last  pang 
of  renunciation  seized  him,  and  he  said  to  himself,  "  So  be  it 
I  have  no  use  for  life.  It  is  time  to  be  out  of  this  disjointed 
world."  Then  there  came  into  his  mind  the  first  words  of 
that  impressive  early  lyric,  "  Go,  soul,  the  body's  guest,  upon 
a  thankless  errand." 

The  twilight  had  now  quite  died  out  of  the  smoky  air,  and 
the  leaping  of  bright,  distant  flames  became  visible  at  various 
points.  There  was  no  rush  of  horses  nor  clanging  of  bells,  no 
delirious  whirl  of  engines  flung  bodily  to  the  rescue.     The 


"MEN   SCARCELY    KNOW   HOW    BEAUTIFUL   FIRE   IS."  163 

very  boys  did  not  run  to  look  ;  they  had  a  wilder  attraction 
nearer  at  hand.  Man  no  longer  combated  the  spirits  of  de- 
struction;  he  was  their  most  potent  engineer  and  ally. 

The  great  howling  mass  of  rioters  drew  nearer  than  be- 
fore. Trusting  to  the  darknesi^,  its  members  hardly  sought 
cover,  and  the  soldiery  refrained  from  firing  at  random. 

On  one  side  of  the  round-house,  the  yards  of  tlie  railway 
company  extended  for  some  distance.  Within  them  were 
sheds  for  storing  freight  and  utensils,  and  trucks  which  ran 
up  a  moderate  incline  to  a  sort  of  platform,  where  cars  were 
standing  row  on  row,  some  quite  empty,  others  still  densely 
packed  with  miscellaneous  freight,  and  not  a  few  containing 
heaps  of  bituminous  coal  or  tanks  of  even  more  inflammable 
petroleum.  This  exposed  quarter  had  been  avoided  by  the 
mob  during  daylight;  but  now  a  cry  of  exultation  and  excite- 
ment was  heard  there,  and  a  shattering  of  locks  and  timbers. 
Presently  a  flicker  of  flame  rose  above  one  of  the  more  dis- 
tant buildings  ;  and  then  another  and  another.  Then  the  end 
of  a  car  blazed  up  and  the  fire  came  creeping  along  it. 

At  this  there  were  cries  of  dismay  from  the  huddled,  per- 
spiring throng  within  the  round-house;  and  the  dancing 
glimmer  which  came  through  the  windows  played  faintly  on 
ghostly  faces  and  limbs  that  shook.  Under  the  stress  of 
panic,  and  hoping  that  pillage  would  make  a  diversion  in 
their  favor,  the  men  near  the  door  unbarred  it,  and  three  of 
them  sprang  out  and  ran.  But  they  underrated  the  impla- 
cable watchfulness  of  their  enemy.  The  blood  of  the  child- 
ren and  old  men  who  had  fallen  on  Yellowside  was  callinGf 
more,  loudly  in  scores  of  hearts  than  any  spoils  however 
tempting,  or  any  opportunity  for  lesser  destruction.  As  soon 
as  the  three  reached  the  half-light  outside,  there  was  a  great 
shouting  of  jubilation  and  execration,  and  one  of  them  fell 
dead  under  a  discharge  from  half  a  dozen  rifles.  Then  there 
was  a  scamper  and  a  struggle,  shrieks  for  mercy  blending  with 
pistol  shots  and  heavy  blows  ;  and  the  two  other  fugitives 
were  lost  to  man  and  to  life. 


164  CYPRESS    BEACH. 

Now  the  firing  began  again  in  earnest,  for  the  terror  of  the 
militia  made  them  doubly  vengeful,  and  they  saw  that  nothing 
could  be  gained  by  forbearance.  The  mob  fell  back  a  little, 
but  returned  the  shots  from  the  ground  on  all  sides  and  from 
the  windows  and  roof  of  every  neighboring  building. 

Meanwhile,  the  scene  around  the  burning  cars  was  terrific. 
Under  the  great  voluming  masses  of  smoke  and  shooting 
yellow  flames,  a  still  wilder  human  saturnalia  went  on.  Men 
and  women,  with  bare  arms,  haggard  cheeks,  and  inhuman 
eyes,  frenzied  by  drink,  cupidity,  vengeance,  and  all  ungodly 
excitements,  plunged  fairly  into  the  fire  and  dragged  out 
heterogeneous  articles  of  food,  apparel,  ornament,  and  house- 
hold use.  Some  were  struggling  with  and  cursing  one  an- 
other, some  hurrying  disorderly  away  to  hide  their  spoils, 
some  dancing  in  improvised  measures  as  insane  and  full  of 
menace  as  the  Carmagnole — all  howling,  hooting,  contorting 
their  forms  and  visages,  brandishing  newly  stolen  gleaming 
arms,  brandishing  arms  that  seemed  already  painted  with 
blood. 

As  car  after  car  caught  fire,  the  hideous  revel  drew  nearer 
and  stood  out  from  its  background  in  direr  vividness,  while 
their  motley  blades  and  barrels  were  in  constant  coruscation, 
and  their  shadows  thrown  on  a  wall  behind  them  made  a 
gigantesque  multitudinous  mocking  and  mowing,  like  a  sil- 
houette of  the  infernal  regions.  Hawksley  was  tempted  to 
think  that  he  could  detect  the  features  of  Ishmael  Vamper 
amid  these  shifting  profiles,  a^  though  that  agitator  were  the 
dominant  spirit  of  the  scene.  Then  he  smiled  to  himself  at 
his  uncanny  fancies,  and  turned  away  with  a  perfect  readiness 
to  meet  the  dead  man  in  this  world,  or  any  other,  and  on  any 
possible  terms. 

The  blaze  was  now  very  near  and  very  alarming.  Every 
part  of  the  interior  of  the  round-house  could  be  seen  as 
plainly  as  in  a  reddening  afternoon  sun.  The  exultant  screams 
and  shrieks  outside  grew  wilder  and  shriller,  till  it  seemed 
that  nothing  could  possibly  be  worse.     But  worse  came.     In 


"MEN   SCARCELY    KNOW   HOW   BEAUTIFUL   FIRE   IS."  165 

the  climax  of  the  uproar,  a  flaming  box-car  was  loosened  and 
started  from  the  upper  end  of  the  incline.  Down  it  came 
with  constantly  accelerating  speed,  until  it  plunged  against 
the  round-house  with  a  great  splintering  crash,  and  flung  its 
morsels  of  fire  far  upward.  Some  of  them  were  shot  through 
the  windows;  and  the  smoke  came  pouring  after.  Before  the 
first  ejaculations  of  dismay  had  subsided,  a  second  stroke  was 
heard  that  jarred  the  whole  structure,  and  drops  of  burning 
oil  sprayed  inside,  while  the  whole  outer  face  of  the  brick- 
work blazed  together.  Then  another  car  and  another  and 
another  came  careering  down,  some  laden  with  oil,  some  with 
coal,  others  with  miscellaneous  combustible  freight,  all  plung- 
ing viciously  into  the  wreck  of  their  predecessors,  and  flinging 
over  everything  their  blistering  showers  of  solid  and  liquid  fire. 
The  very  walls  began  to  bake  and  crack  under  it,  and  the  wood- 
work overhead  flashed  out  in  several  places.  The  soldiery 
were  dri\  en  from  that  side  of  the  buildiing  and  penned  to- 
gether in  insupportable  heat  and  mingled  glare  and  darkness. 
They  could  no  longer  hear  the  hideous  joy  of  their  enemies, 
or  indeed  anything  except  the  crackling  and  snapping  and 
roaring  close  at  hand  ;  but  now  and  then  a  rift  in  the  smoke 
to  leeward  exhibited  a  tableau  which  might  have  been  taken 
from  some  dream  of  torment. 

"God  in  heaven  !"  exclaimed  Cokman,  "this  seems  like  the 
end  of  all  things." 

Under  the  stress  of  that  Tophet,  a  sally  was  now  determined 
on,  with  the  hope  of  fighting  their  way  to  some  refuge.  The 
arrangements  were  hastily  made,  for  the  blaze  was  already 
spreading  over  the  roof  and  firebrands  dropped  upon  them  as 
they  stood.  When  the  door  opened,  their  egress  was  more 
sudden  than  orderly,  and  the  mob,  though  more  or  less  pre- 
pared for  it,  fell  back  in  all  directions.  The  whole  expedition 
had  reached  the  open  air,  and  was  hurrying  with  half-formed 
ranks  towards  the  suburbs,  when  their  persecutors,  recovering, 
precipitated  themselves  on  all  parts  of  the  column,  and  most 
fiercely  on  the  rear — which  included  Hawksle)-  and  Coleman. 


1 66  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

In  that  sudden  howling,  half-human  surge,  the  two  were 
separated,  and  the  latter,  well  buffeted  and  smarting  from  a 
flesh  wound,  was  glad  to  reach  a  more  solid  group  of  his 
comrades,  who  swept  him  with  them  to  the  main  body.  Look- 
ing back  from  the  first  enforced  halt,  he  saw  Captain  Haw^ksley 
cut  off  with  one  or  two  others,  and  forced  back  to  the  very  door- 
way of  the  round-house.  Here  for  a  moment  there  was  a 
pause,  while  the  intense  glare  behind  threw  into  strong  relief 
his  tall,  unyielding  form  and  calm,  stern  visage :  then  the 
demoniacal  mass  of  rioters  rolled  clamorously  forward  again, 
bearing  him  bodily  over  the  threshold,  while  the  jar  of  their 
shock  against  the  jambs  and  wall  dislodged  a  half-burnt  beam 
overhead,  which  beat  him  to  the  ground  in  its  fall,  and  drove 
them  out  beyond  the  reach  of  fire. 

This  was  all  that  Coleman  saw,  for  he  was  obliged  to  turn 
about  and  take  his  part  in  a  wretched,  desultory  struggle  of 
shots  exchanged  at  random  and  charge  and  countercharge 
made  without  method,  which  continued  until  they  had 
traversed  the  last  of  the  city  streets  and  entered  the  open 
country  beyond. 

It  was  the  last  that  any  one  ever  saw  of  Captain  Archer 
Hawksley  as  a  living  man  :  but  the  next  day  when  his  body, 
less  burnt  than  might  have  been  expected,  was  removed  from 
the  ruins,  they  found  on  his  face  the  same  inflexible  expression 
which  had  often  marked  it.  On  the  fly-leaf  of  a  little  Bible  in 
an  inside  pocket  was  the  signature  of  Miss  Jessica  Armstrong, 
and  in  his  own  more  recent  pencilling  the  text — **And  having 
done  all,  to  stand." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
"after  life's  fitful  fever." 

The  summer  sunshine  came  cheerily  into  the  room  where 
Robert  Chauncey  lay  comfortably  listening  to  doleful  words. 
These  flowed  from  that  fountain  of  all  hopefulness  (except  in 
political  matters),  the  genial,  ever-youthful  Roger  Armstrong. 

The  news  had  been  growing  very  alarming  of  late.  Three 
days  had  gone  by  since  the  holocaust  in  Pittsburgh,  and  four 
since  the  bloodshed  in  Baltimore,  yet  the  disorders  of  neither 
city  had  been  fully  quelled ;  while  in  a  dozen  other  places 
(several  of  them  even  more  important)  the  insurrection  was 
ablaze.  At  St.  Louis  and  Chicago,  the  police,  militia,  and 
regulars  struggled  for  life  and  death  against  mobs  number- 
ing thousands,  each  collision  leaving  its  debris  of  corpses 
along  the  pavements.  Far  away  on  the  Pacific  coast,  the 
respectable  elements  of  San  Fracisco,  freely  armed  by  the 
government,  were  attacking  and  scattering  the  tatterdemalion 
multitudes  who  gathered  to  expel  the  Chinese  and  rob  gen- 
erally. In  Buffalo,  a  round-house,  garrisoned  by  militia,  had 
been  stormed  by  the  rioters.  At  Reading  there  had  been  a 
slaughter  almost  equal  to  that  of  Baltimore.  Fort  Wayne 
and  Indianapolis  were  in  possession  of  the  insurgents,  and  so 
Avere  all  the  great  lines  of  communication  between  the  East 
and  the  West.  New  York  was  preparing  for  the  worst. 
Even  the  Cabinet  at  Washington  discussed  the  proposition 
to  declare  several  States  in  revolt,  and  call  out  an  army  of 
volunteers  to  restore  order. 


1 68  CYPRESS    BEACH. 

Nevertheless  the  sunshine  had  lost  none  of  its  cheery 
warmth ;  and  Robert  Chauncey,  with  his  eyes  on  Jessica  as 
she  sat  placidly  at  her  sewing,  and  his  ears  less  attentive  to 
her  uncle's  eloquence  than  to  the  humming  of  bees  among 
the  honeysuckles  outside  and  the  rustling  of  silvery  leaves, 
could  not  easMy  believe  that  the  course  of  nature  would  be 
balked,  or  that  the  world  was  going  altogether  to  the  bad. 
He  said  very  little,  except  to  throw  in  a  pleasant  word  now 
and  then,  which  roused  the  old  gentleman  from  the  doze  that 
followed  every  peroration,  and  started  the  symphony  again. 

"With  no  power  in  the  hands  of  capital  to  compel  labor, 
what  is  to  become  of  these  United  States  ?  Look  at  the 
miserable  rahscals,  sir,  burning  and  robbing  and  murdering, 
with  no  respect  for  the  rights  of  property.  I  have  never  been 
an  admirer  of  the  mushroom  parvenu  millionaires  of  the 
North  ;  but  property  is  entitled  to  protection,  sir,  and  any- 
thing is  more  endurable  than  anarchy.  Neither  abuse  could 
have  existed  under  our  much-abused  slavery  system,  for  it 
fostered  standards  that  were  not  sordid  and  habits  which  pre- 
vented inordinate  accumulation  ;  while  it  instilled  a  respect 
for  vested  rights,  a  deference  to  social  superiors,  and  a  con- 
servative distaste  for  random  innovation,  which  made  even  the 
poorer  classes  of  our  people  a  bulwark  of  the  state — instead 
of  being,  as  now,  its  greatest  danger.  It  secured  order,  sir, 
and  the  proper  ascendency  of  intellect;  and  cultivated  a  spirit 
of  personal  honor  which  is  fast  becoming  obsolete.  The  fu- 
ture of  this  nation,  without  slavery,  seems  very  dark  to  me, 
sir,  very  dark,  indeed  !" 

Then  he  dropped  his  head  and  dozed  comfortably  again, 
while  the  English  sparrows  outside,  having  the  field  again 
wholly  to  themselves,  seemed  to  take  up  with  renewed  zest 
their  perennial  wrangling,  berating,  and  complaining,  as 
though  they,  too,  were  profoundly  impressed  with  one 
another's  mismanagement  and  the  degeneracy  of  sparrow 
politics. 


"AFTER   LIFE'S   FITFUL   FEVER."  1 69 

Yet  Robert  Chauncey  was  disposed  to  agree  with  him 
to  a  certain  point.  That  is,  he  felt  less  critical  and  revo- 
lutionary than  formerly.  Some  old  and  settled  things 
really  seemed  as  though  they  might  be  left  without  periodi- 
cal investigation  and  readjustment;  and  he  could  not  deny 
that  the  present  revolt  had  shown  more  genius  for  destruc- 
tion than  regeneration.  The  only  good  likely  to  flow  from  it 
was  a  purely  personal  one — the  advancement  of  his  suit  with 
Jessica. 

Lying  there  with  little  else  to  think  about,  his  affection  for 
her  had  grown  and  deepened  vastly.  Down  to  his  leaving 
Cypress  Beach,  it  had  been  little  more  than  a  flaccid  prefer- 
ence, based  on  congeniality  of  tastes  and  certain  graces  of 
person  and  motion,  and  stung  into  uncomfortable  vitality  by 
her  light  estimate  of  himself  as  compared  with  Captain 
Hawksley.  Even  at  the  moment  of  his  disaster,  there  was 
more  of  vanity  and  miscellaneous  turmoil  in  his  soul  than  of 
anything  that  promised  a  durable  attachment.  But  now 
there  was  inevitably  a  certain  tie  between  them,  tacitly 
recognized  even  by  herself;  and,  moreover,  he  was  made 
aware  that  she  had  grown  more  settled  and  balanced  in  her 
womanhood,  more  imbued  with  the  consideration  and  sym- 
pathy which  often  are  born  of  grievous  trouble,  more  reliably 
worthy  of  homage. 

He  was  better  able  to  appreciate  such  traits  since  his  own 
very  literal  plunge  into  bitter  waters.  He  had  been  made  to 
see  the  flimsiness  of  many  things  which  he  had  once  rated 
very  differently.  Even  his  hitherto  dilettante  nature  stood 
aghast,  and  took  on  a  certain  retributive  sternness  as  he 
saw  how  short  a  step  had  all  along  separated  him,  with  his 
delicacies  and  trimmings  of  body  and  soul,  from  the  helpless 
mire  of  the  street  and  the  sewer's  foulness.  From  that  time, 
it  often  seemed  that  any  suggestion  of  a  return  to  his  old 
superficial  life  was  positively  distasteful.  He  felt  that  he  had 
definitely  passed  a  turning  point  (as  happens  in  more  lives  than 
philosophical  pessimists  like  to  adm,it),  and  was  on  the  road  to- 


I/O 


CYPRESS  BEACH. 


earnest  effort  for  good.  He  smiled  a  little  to  find  that  this 
prospect  did  not  appal  him  now. 

A  card  was  brought  up  to  Jessica. 

"  Mr.  Coleman,"  she  read,  with  an  accent  of  surprise;  then 
rose  tremulously  as  though  with  some  foreboding. 

"I  think  you  had  better  come,  too,  uncle,"  she  said,  as  she 
passed  through  the  door. 

As  she  entered  the  parlor,  Mr.  Coleman  rose,  a  little  dis- 
turbed by  her  polite  interrogating  glance. 

"Miss  Armstrong?"  asked  he,  hesitatingly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  replied,  with  anxious  courtesy. 

"Then  here  is  a  card  which  I  was  asked  to  give  you  by  a 
mutual  friend.     I  was  the  last  person  who  saw  him  living." 

She  took  it  without  a  word  and  carried  it  to  the  nearest 
window,  where  she  stood  laboriously  reading  it  through  a 
mist  of  tears.  Just  as  her  uncle  entered  the  room,  she  broke 
down  utterly  and  sank  into  an  armchair,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands  and  quivering  mutely. 

"What  does  this  mean,  sir?"  demanded  Mr.  Armstrong, 
just  entering. 

Jessica  took  on  herself  the  task  of  explanation. 

"  He  is  dead — Captain  Hawksley,"  she  said,  struggling  to 
speak  clearly. 

"  Zounds  and  death !"  exclaimed  her  uncle,  in  consternation. 
^'When?     How?" 

"  It  transpired  in  the  great  riot  at  Pittsburgh,"  answered 
Coleman. 

Then,  feeling  that  this  was  hardly  equal  to  the  occasion,  he 
added — 

"Captain  Hawksley  died  like  a  brave  man,  doing  his 
dooty." 

Jessica  rose,  saying — 

"  Mr.  Coleman,  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  me.  Captain 
Hawksley  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine." 

She  passed  up  to  her  room  and  never  saw  him  afterward. 


"AFTER   LIFE'S    FITFUL   FEVER."  I7I 

"What  does  the  card  mean  by  two  guests  being  dead?" 
asked  Coleman,  with  very  evident  curiosity. 

"Was  no  one  else  killed  that  you  noticed  particularly?" 
qupried  Mr.  Armstrong,  in  his  turn. 

"  No,"  answered  the  other,  reflectively;  "  unless  it  might  be 
a  sort  o'  leading  spirit  among  the  rioters,  a  wretched  fellow 
with  the  most  dreadful  face  I  ever  did  see.  He  was  pointing 
me  out  for  a  target — must  have  known  that  I  represented  a 
great  moneyed  corporation.  I  shot  his  marksman,  and 
Hawksley,  alongside  of  me,  shot  Jiiin!' 

"  I  suspect  you  have  indicated  the  man,"  said  Roger  Arm- 
strong. "  Miserable  rahscal !  But  he  is  gone  elsewhere  now, 
and  we  will  leave  him  to  God's  justice — and  mercy." 

Meantime  Jessica  was  in  a  state  of  distracted  sorrow.  Now 
that  Captain  Hawksley  was  irretrievably  lost  to  her  in  death, 
he  seemed  worthier  of  admiration  than  ever  before.  How 
very  grand  he  was,  going  down  in  that  stately  Roman  way 
with  the  wreck  of  all  old  systems  when  he  could  no  longer 
make  head  against  the  new  !  With  what  noble  steadfastness 
he  had  stood  to  his  post  in  love  as  in  everything  else,  count- 
ing life  as  nothing  when  he  could  no  longer  hope  to  win  her  ! 
And  then,  oh  to  think  that  even  in  his  last  hours  she  owed  to 
him  (whom  she  had  driven  under  the  death-cloud)  deliverance 
from  a  doubt  and  a  terror  which  would  never  have  wholly 
left  her  while  Ishmael  Vamper  lived! 

For  some  days  afterward,  Robert  Chauncey  tound  cause  for 
wonder  and  pain  in  her  his  of  inattention  and  still  more  in  her 
over-assiduous  efforts  to  atone.  But,  after  all,  living  in- 
fluences are  the  permanent  ones ;  so  there  came  a  time  when 
Captain  Hawksley  was  scarcely  more  to  her  than  an  admired 
statue  in  a  niche  of  her  memory,  and  Robert  Chauncey  was 
the  clieery  companion  whom  she  accepted  for  life. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"  REST    FROM    ALL    BITTER    THOUGHTS    AND    THINGS." 

Like  many  another  wanderer,  this  romance  returns  at  the 
last  to  the  place  of  its  birth.  Once  more  in  the  early  summer 
its  people  are  gathered  at  Cypress  Beach  ;  but  this  time  there 
are  no  shapes  nor  portents  of  evil  abroad,  and  perfect  sunshine 
overflows  the  whole  land.  The  labor  revolt  of  1877,  with  its 
sudden  terror  and  its  rapid  succession  of  phantasmagoria/ 
hardly  seems  to  have  been  at  all. 

Mrs.  Robert  Chauncey  (our  Jessica)  is  seated,  comfortably 
sewing,  in  her  rocking  chair  under  the  great  oak  tree  where 
Vamper  received  Lieutenant  White,  assured,  graceful,  ma- 
tronly, feeling  herself  buttressed  around  b}^  all  that  gives  life 
a  solid  value,  and  having  at  easy  command  those  minor  luxu- 
ries and  intangible  deferences  so  dear  to  delicately  nurtured 
womanhood.  Was  there  a  nightmare  long  ago  and  a  possi- 
bility just  missed  which  might  well  make  one  shudder?  Best 
not  to  dwell  on  such  unwholesome  themes.  Perhaps  she  has 
read  or  dreamed  some  uncanny  fantasy  that  will  not  wholly 
leave  the  remoter  recesses  of  her  mind,  but  which  assuredly 
shall  not  come  out  from  them  to  poison  her  life.  For,  look 
you,  this  soft  grass  is  certainly  very  real,  and  so  are  the  sun- 
shine and  the  breeze.  There  is  much  of  magic  in  the  mock- 
ing-bird's ecstatic  song  on  the  bough  above  her,  but  it  is  a 
very  good  magic  ;  and  the  little  wrens  darting  in  and  out  of 
their  holes  in  yonder  dead  limb,  chitter  away  in  a  contented, 
hou.sewifely  style  that  warms  the  heart.  The  broad  fields  of 
her  ancestors  stretch  away  in  front  and  on  each  side  to  the 


"REST   FROM  ALL  BITTER  THOUGHTS  AND  THINGS."  I  73 

distant  woodlands,  bathed  in  light  and  rich  with  mellow 
wheat-billows  or  glancing  sabre-blades  of  corn.  Behind  her 
in  the  porch  she  hears  the  deep,  clear,  restful  voice  of  her 
uncle,  Roger  Armstrong,  exchanging  old-time  pleasantries 
and  didactics  with  the  Hon.  Frederick  De  Lancey,  who  stiil 
occupies  his  seat  in  Congress,  in  defiance  of  all  the  Vampers 
which  this  or  any  other  world  can  send  forth. 

The  legislator  has  just  been  narrating  his  interview  with 
Ishmael,  and  the  timely  aid  rendered  by  his  colored  proxy. 

"  By  the  Lord,  you  should  have  seen  him,"  said  he.  "  He 
has  never  recovered  from  the  effects  of  tiiat  exaltation.  I 
believe  he  thinks  himself  my  alter  ego,  and  very  nearly  as  well 
entitled  to  a  seat  in  the  national  councils.  He  struts  so — 
why  there  was  a  very  worthy  man  sent  down  last  session  to 
represent  a  New  England  inland  district,  who  came  to  me 
with  a  certain  tremulousness  of  awe  upon  him,  and  desired 
information   about   that  colored  gentleman'' 

"  Doubtless !  doubtless !"  laughed  Roger  Armstrong. 
**  They  will  all  be  gentlemen  before  long.  They  vote  their 
sentiments  already,  and  soon  some  one  will  be  discovering 
that  they  ought  to  be  installed  in  the  jury  box,  to  pass  judg- 
ment on  the  lives  and  property  of  our  citizens.  But  they  will 
die  out,  sir ;  ^hey  must  inevitably  die  out  when  deprived  of 
the  fostering  care  of  the  white  race,  and  left  to  their  own  im- 
provident devices.  It  is  a  pity,  too,  for  the  negro  is  a  queer, 
good-natured  creature  as  any  in  the  world.  But  as  to  your 
Cerberus,  he  had  better  luck  than  Lieutenant  White,  here, 
in   dealing  with  that  astonishing  rahscal." 

"  Most  extrornary  behavior !"  exclaimed  the  little  man 
nlluded  to.  "  Most  extrornary !  I  didn't  come  here  that  day 
to  qua'l ;  but  I  could  have  shot  him  as  I  would  a  squ'l  before 
I  left.  But  not  befo'  your  do'.  Miss  Jessi— I  mean  Mrs. 
Chauncey.     Not  befo'  your  do'." 

"  Thanks!"  she  answered,  smiling  demurely. 

''Why  the  fellow  had  the  most  brazen  assurance,"  White 


ly^  CYPRESS    BEACH. 

went  on ;  "  he  admitted  all  sorts  of  things.     Now  a  gentle- 
man, you  know,  never  admits  anything." 

"  Indeed  !"  she  responded,  as  though  greatly  edified. 

The  lieutenant  was  a  great  favorite  (rather  because  of  his 
little  oddities,  than  in  spite  of  them)  at  Cypress  Beach.  He 
often  rode  out  from  Nodaway,  where  he  was  hopefully  pur- 
suing the  law,  and  told  war  stories,  which,  after  the  manner 
of  their  kind,  grew  larger  as  they  grew  older.  In  his  case 
they  derived  a  unique  and  rather  comical  interest  from  the 
fact  that  he  considered  himself  still  in  the  Confederate  serv- 
ice, having  somehow  contrived  to  avoid  any  formal  surrender, 
Mr.  Armstrong  used  sometimes  to  laughingly  suggest  (in  his 
absence)  that  perhaps  he  had  been  passed  over  by  reason  of 
his  smallness. 

Before  he  had  shed  any  further  light  on  what  "  a  gentle- 
man never"  does  (whereby  so  many  dogmatists  prove  trium- 
phantly that  there  are  no  gentlemen),  her  husband  came 
briskly  up  the  drive  on  horseback.  Robert  Chauncey  was 
a  trifle  sturdier  of  frame,  browner  of  face,  and  more  springy 
and  positive  of  tread  than  formerly,  as  though  he  and  life  had 
clasped  hands  with  earnest  heart ;  and  this  appearance  of 
change  was  not  misleading.  He  had  developed  a  talent  and 
taste  for  practical  farming  and  the  management  of  affairs^ 
which  would  at  one  time  have  seemed  to  him  quite  in- 
credible. A  considerable  part  of  the  Cypress  Beach  estate 
was  under  his  supervision,  beside  some  little  property  of  his 
own,  the  first  payments  on  which  had  been  made  by  his 
earnings  in  a  very  different  field.  The  idle  days  and  long 
evenings  of  midwinter  had  given  him  ampir  opportunities  to 
ply  his  brush  and  palette,  and  he  had  done  some  work  of 
original  quality,  in  which  local  influences  might  be  traced. 
Some  of  his  productions  had  traveled  to  far  cities,  and  won 
notice  there.  Of  these,  perhaps  the  most  striking  was  "  The 
Lady  of  the  Ring" — you  could  hardly  tell  whether  a  spectre 
or  a  living  figure,  so  enwrapped  was  she  in  cypress  glooms, 
sand  gleams,  vapors,  and  dim  moonlight — so  wildly  lighted 


REST    FROM    ALL   BITTER   THOUGHTS   AND   THINGS. 


175 


in  eye  and  form  by  the  swell  and  strain  of  an  inner  agony^ 
that  she  seemed  the  very  embodiment  of  pangs  and  terrors 
which  would  surely  outlive  life. 

Another,  more  cheerful  if  less  ambitious,  shows  a  quadroon 
girl,  meagrely  clad,  but  of  well-rounded,  creamy  beauty,  who 
has  stepped  into  the  sunshine,  between  two  low-hanging 
cypress  boughs,  holding  lightly  with  both  upraised  hands  the 
sides  of  a  bucket  of  water  which  is  poised  upon  her  head, 
while,  seemingly  forgetful  of  her  burden,  she  gazes  with  indo- 
lent curiosity,  presumably  at  a  passing  boat.  A  spring  below 
her  bare  feet  overflows  from  a  sunken  barrel  which  is  broken 
away  at  the  front. 

Both  the  artist-farmer  and  his  wife  were  great  favorites  with 
all  classes  of  the  community  by  reason  of  their  sunny,  social 
traits  and  readiness  to  be  helpful  in  time  of  need.  The  fact  of 
Jessica's  temporary  disappearance  some  years  before  had  be- 
come almost  as  misty  to  the  public  mind  as  to  that  of  her 
uncle  himself  It  was  not  easy  for  gossip  to  persist  in  ill- 
natured  suggestions,  when  the  object  of  them  was  so  conspic- 
uously kind  and  cordial,  and  showed  such  an  imperturbable 
and  unconscious  front.  Gradually  the  idea  spread  that  the 
real  companion  of  her  elopement  was  the  young  man  whom 
she  married  not  very  long  afterward,  and  that  it  would  be 
most  wisely  treated  as  a  youthful  escapade  having  no  further 
significance. 

As  Robert  dismounted  at  the  edge  of  the  circle  in  which 
the  drive  terminated,  his  wife  came  lovingly  forward  to  meet 
him;  while  simultaneously  their  little  Ellen  and  Alice  left  off 
chasing  grasshoppers,  and  ran  toward  him  up  the  gentle  slope 
with  breathless  laughter  and  much  shaking  of  arms  and  bodies 
and  twinkling  of  feet.  Alice,  though  the  younger,  was  first 
on  the  ground.  Indeed,  she  was  first  in  most  things,  for 
Ellen's  movements,  both  mental  and  physical,  were  often 
amusingly  deliberate  and  weighty.  A  very  wise,  healthful 
child  was  little  Nell;  ready  enough  to  ramble  and  scamper 


1^6  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

and  make  dandelion  chains  with  all  earnestness,  when  not  too 
much  engrossed  in  scrutinizing  the  problems  of  the  universe. 

"  I've  just  come  from  the  Quaker  meeting-house  over  the 
river,"  said  our  reformed  communist.  "They've  had  very 
queer  times  around  there — any  amount  of  scandal  among  our 
drab-cloth  friends  !  Oddly  enough  the — heroine — of  :t  tells  a 
rediculous,  superstitious  story  about  a  ring  which  she  claims 
to  have  found  long  ago,  and  which  must  be  very  like  the  one 
that  you  lost  about  the  time  of  my  first  visit  to  Cypress  Beach. 
Don't  you  remember,  my  dear?" 

"  I  do,"  she  answered  in  a  low,  uncomfortable  voice. 

"Well,  she  lays  the  whole  blame  on  that  ring  in  the  most 
absurd  way.  I  thought  it  might  be  yours,  and  tried  to  get 
sight  of  it;  but  her  father  had  flung  it  into  the  Pocomoke." 

Jessica  replied,  with  an  air  of  relief — 

"  It  was  best.     I  don't  wish  to  see  the  thing  again." 

Robert  stared  ;  for  she  had  never  brought  herself  to  be 
quite  frank  with  him  on  the  subject.  Indeed  that  was  hardly 
possible,  since  she  lacked  words  to  define  some  of  her  bygone 
fancies  about  Vamper  and  that  strange  gem.  They  seemed 
almost  like  touches  of  insanity;  and  what  had  actually  oc- 
curred was  really  by  comparison  so  little  ! 

His  brow  began  to  cloud,  but  before  he  spoke  the  sage 
Ellen  made  a  diversion.  After  her  usual  fashion,  she  had 
brought  a  topic  with  her,  and  pursued  that  train  of  thought, 
disregarding  all  else. 

"  Papa,"  said  she,  "  you  told  us  the  other  day  about  a  man 
who  made  a  bargain  with  the  great  debil"  (here  her  voice 
sank  into  a  confidential  whisper  and  l^er  eyes  grew  larger) 
"  not  to  say  his  prayers,  if  the  debil  would  let  him  fly  like  a 
bird.  An'  he  forgotten  an'  said  his  prayers  one  day,  an'  the 
debil  failed  him  in  the  waier.  Was  that  bad  in  the  man  ?  or 
was  it  bad  in  the  debil  ?" 

"  It  was  bad  in  both  of  them,"  answered  the  mother  for 
him. 

But  Ellen  was  not  at  the  end  of  her  ethics. 


"REST   FROM   ALL   BITTER   THOUGHTS   AND   THINGS."  1 77 

"  Was  it  bad  in  the  man  to  promise  the  debil  not  to  say  his 
prayers  ?  or  was  it  bad  in  him  to  say  his  prayers  after  he  had 
promised  the  debil  not  to  say  'em  ?" 

"  Now,  Jessica,"  exclaimed  her  husband,  with  somewhat  of 
expectant  triumph.     But  she  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"  It  was  wrong  to  make  such  a  promise,"  she  said. 

"  Well  done,  diplomatist !"  cried  Robert. 

Ellen  turned  to  him  again  with  her  next. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  that  man,  papa  ?" 

"  I  knew  a  man  who  had  something  like  that  happen  to 
him.     It  was  no  good  thing." 

Here  little  Alice  made  her  contribution,  speaking  wath 
mincing  preciseness : 

"I  think  that  man  must  have  been  mor-tee-fied  when  he 
found  he  had  tumbled  into  a  mudpuddle." 

"  Now,  you  bet  you  ;  I  should  say  so !"  exclaimed  her 
father,  laughing  and  patting  her  sunny  head.  "  Run  off  and 
fetch  me  some  'hoppers." 

At  this  up  came  Mammy  Charlotte,  a  little  more  rheumatic 
than  formerly,  but  otherwise  unchanged. 

''Good  mornin',  Mr.  Robert,"  said  she;  "  Miss  Jessie,  I've 
been  a  runnin'  an'  a  sarchin'  till  my  ole  bones  ache  like  dey 
would  split;  an'  whar  is  de  consecrated  lye?" 

"  We  had  it  here  a  moment  ago,"  answered  Chauncey.  "  I 
gave  it  to  the  children  yesterday." 

Charlotte  looked  after  them,  evidently  puzzled. 

"  Laws,  Miss  Jessie !"  said  she,  "  how  dey  does  favor  you — 
specially  de  light  complected  one,  little  Miss  Alice !  But 
what  s/icil  I  do  about  de  consecrated  lye?" 

Here  Prince  (now^  developed  into  an  awkward  but  very 
popular  stripling  just  home  for  the  holidays)  looked  up  from 
the  novel  that  he  was  reading  in  a  good  grassy,  sprawling 
place,  and  said — "  You  had  better  go  to  a  minister  for  that 
sort  of  thing,  Mammy." 

The  fact  is  he  was  beginning  to  catch  a  little  of  the  icono- 
clastic spirit  of  the  time,  and  felt  that  he  had  already  learned 
13 


1^8  CYPRESS  BEACH. 

enough  at  school  to  be  astutely  critical  in  legendary  and 
sacerdotal  matters.  So  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  second  his 
cousin-in-law  in  this  way. 

But  the  patriarch  of  their  little  household  had  caught  their 
words,  and  felt  called  upon  to  put  in  a  protest. 

"  Now  that's  hardly  fair,"  said  he.  We  ought  always  to  be 
deferential  to  gentlemen  of  sacred  character.  When  I  was  a 
youngster,  I  knew  one  of  them  who  used  to  ride  up  on  horse- 
back, to  rap  on  the  parlor  windows,  and  call,  'Any  communi- 
cants for  to-morrow!'  And  I  have  heard  that  once  when  the 
hounds  came  by  he  was  so  transported,  sir,  that  he  sprang  to 
his  saddle  and  put  off  after  them  in  his  surplice.  He  often 
used  to  escort  young  ladies  to  their  carriages  after  service, 
without  stopping  to  make  a  change  of  raiment.  Yet  he  was 
always  treated  with  the  most  distinguished  consideration." 

Turning  to  Mr.  De  Lancey,  he  added — 

**  Those  were  rare  old  times,  sir." 

"  They  were  indeed,  sir,"  responded  the  Honorable  Freder- 
ick ;  and  the  two  gentlemen  of  an  elder  era  shook  their  heads 
in  company  in  a  whimsical,  traditional  regret  that  was  at  least 
half  conscious  of  its  own  absurdity. 

Thus  life  flows  on  for  Jessica,  brightening  with  every  year 
and  clearing  itself  of  all  shadows,  pleasantly  broken  now  and 
then  by  a  return  to  more  artificial  enjoyments,  but  for  the 
most  part  with  a  current  as  equable  and  genial  as  the  lapse  of 
one  summer  ciream  into  another. 


THE     END. 


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